


Infinite Seconds

by DestinyIslandWanderer



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Bisexual Prompto Argentum, Break Up, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gay Noctis Lucis Caelum, Getting Together, M/M, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Polyamory, Slow Burn, established promptis, no road trip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27140272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyIslandWanderer/pseuds/DestinyIslandWanderer
Summary: The first thing Noctis does after hearing the news of his betrothal is look at Prompto’s face. It tells a story in a matter of painful and infinite seconds—shock, then despair, followed by an impassable and complete resolve not to let Noctis see how he suffers.Luna loves Noctis.Noctis loves Prompto.Prompto just wants everyone to be happy, but that may require getting more intimately involved in their marriage than he ever expected to be.
Relationships: Lunafreya Nox Fleuret & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Prompto Argentum/Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Unrequited Lunoct
Comments: 124
Kudos: 139





	1. Noctis

The first thing he does after hearing the news of his betrothal is look at Prompto’s face. It tells a story in a matter of painful and infinite seconds—shock, then despair, followed by an impassable and complete resolve not to let Noctis see how he suffers. 

It’s not like they didn’t know this day was coming. They always knew, since the moment they first kissed, that one day Noctis would have to marry someone who he didn’t love, and now that day has finally come.

“Perhaps it’s best that you and Prompto stay apart while we make preparations for Lady Lunafreya’s arrival,“ Ignis suggests, softly, gently because he’s been watching Noctis since it happened, expecting him to break down, and Noctis hasn’t yet, but only because he’s determined to pretend for as long as he can. “I can make sure that he’s not stationed near you when he’s on Crownsguard duty.”

Noctis thinks how much easier it would be on both of them if they did just that—quit cold turkey, let their love be torn apart after four years of happiness, the best four years of Noctis’s life.

“Maybe you’re right, but I need to tell him myself, what’s going on. I need to explain…” 

He doesn’t know if he should tell Ignis what he plans to explain—that he doesn’t want to marry Luna, that he’ll always love Prompto more, that if anything were different, Prompto would be his betrothed, that even though he knew the ending to their story, he’s been begging for a different outcome since the day they met.

He wonders if they shouldn’t have gotten together at all. If he shouldn’t have kissed Prompto that night his date ditched him at the school dance when they were just 16, when Prompto cried behind the school gymnasium, and Noctis told him he deserved better and kissed him so recklessly they never found a reason to look back. 

They discussed the inevitable a few, gut-wrenching times, but they’d put it aside quickly in favor of stolen kisses on borrowed time, lazy Sunday mornings waking up in each other’s arms, creating a picture of domestic bliss that Noctis wanted to exist inside forever.

“Have you spoken to him?” Noctis asks.

Ignis avoids his gaze and pauses before he explains. “He’s taking it just as you’d expect. With a great deal of courage. He said he’s happy for you, and that Lady Lunafreya is a great person, and he knew you wouldn’t be able to stay with a commoner like him forever anyway.”

“Do you think he’ll quit the Crownsguard?”

“He’s already taken an oath of lifetime service…”

“But I have the authority to override that and dismiss him?”

“And what else do you imagine he’d do for a living?” Ignis asks. It’s gentle, thoughtful. Noctis is sure Ignis has thought this all through before, probably before Noctis’s engagement was even announced, because Ignis prepares for all variables, always has. Meanwhile, Noctis couldn’t even bring himself to prepare for the inevitable. 

“I don’t know...Is there something else he could do, just so he doesn’t have to see me with her?” Noctis asks, and it pains him to imagine not seeing Prompto around anymore, not being able to convince Ignis to hand over the roster of Crownsguard posts for the day so he can sneak off to where Prompto is and pull him into the nearest guest room or broom closet for a kiss.

Being a prince was both monotonous and overwhelming before he met Prompto, but Prompto made it _okay,_ gave his racing thoughts rest, made a world where all that mattered was video games and bad jokes and their love for each other, because Prompto never expected him to be responsible or upright or princely. Prompto let him be who he is.

He tries to imagine reverting to the past, to being just Prompto’s friend again, like he used to fantasize about back when he had no one, before he realized his “best friend” had soft, pink lips and irresistible blue eyes. 

But he knows no matter how hard he pretends, it won’t be like that. He knows he’ll never look at Prompto again without seeing what could’ve been, without wishing he could kiss and hold him and call Prompto _his._

Noctis is going to be _married_ to a woman—a woman who’s been a good pen pal, but nothing more, because unlike Prompto, Noctis has no interest in women beyond friendship. He knows that Luna is gorgeous, is sure that there are many others who would give anything just to kiss her, but, as long as he lives, he’s sure he can never see her as his _wife_. The very word, the very thought terrifies him, robs him of peace and sleep, and, worst of all, hope.

He can’t see Luna as his wife. At least, not in the same way he can see Prompto as his husband.

“Noct...I’ll be honest with you. I get the distinct feeling that no matter what you say, Prompto won’t willingly leave your side. He sees it as his duty to protect you, in spite of everything. As much as I’m tempted to provide him with another position, I don’t believe he would accept, and...speaking strictly as someone who cares about your physical safety, you could not find a better or more loyal protector in all of Eos—with the exception of your shield and myself, of course.”

“So Prompto should stay on the Crownsguard. That’s your advice?” 

Noctis says it too hopefully, and Ignis is silent for too long. Noctis speaks first. “That’s _not_ what you think?”

“You know how much I adore Prompto, and I would no sooner wish him pain than I would you, but...no matter what you choose, it will not be easy for either of you. I am... _reluctant_ to voice an opinion on the matter. Perhaps it’s best you and Prompto speak privately. I will, of course, respect and support whatever you decide.”

“Thanks, Iggy.”

“Of course...I have some things to attend to, preparations for her arrival, but should you need me...”

He knows Ignis is worried about him, trying to pretend like they’ve both got control over this unbearable situation out of self-defense. 

“I know where to find you,” Noctis reassures him, because he knows Ignis is trying his best. 

“Alright,” Ignis nods. When he’s about to exit the room, he stops, turns and adds. “I don’t wish to belabor the point, but if you weren’t a prince and I not your advisor, I would want you to be with Prompto. Although this is not what either of us wished for, I promise I will do absolutely everything in my power to help you make the best of it.”

The second the door shuts behind him, Noctis finally allows himself to cry.

* * *

“Hey Prom,” he says. It comes out awkward and horribly unnatural, and Noctis already hates himself before he’s even begun to say what he came here to say.

Prompto says a quick _hi_ back and guides him to sit at the laminate wood table in Prompto’s tiny studio apartment. Noctis rarely visits him here. In truth, Prompto rarely _lives_ here. He’s been not-so-secretly spending the night at Noctis’s house since they finished high school and his parents sold their house.

But they both know they’re not at Noctis’s place for a reason. It’s best to meet in neutral territory, in a place not full of memories, a place covered in flat surfaces—floors and tabletops and counters—where they haven’t made love, a kitchen where they haven’t botched a thousand recipes, spaces that don’t contain the magic of a thousand kisses or endless nights spent in each other’s arms. 

Prompto’s apartment is plain and bare, and it reflects their future in its cold impersonality. It feels wrong and a little callous that this is where Prompto is supposed to live when neither of them ever wanted to be here.

“Are you...how are you?” Noctis forces himself to start after an extended silence, because this is all his fault. It’s his life, his destiny, that brought their relationship to this fatal moment.

“Yeah, um, I’m okay. Thinking I should probably spruce up my place though,” Prompto offers a weak grin as he glances at the sparse surroundings.

“Oh yeah,” Noctis breathes out a fake laugh. “Yeah. Probably a good idea...I should probably...well, do you want me to...I could bring your things back? I have all your photos, but oh,” he sighs, “oh, I guess they have me in them, so maybe...that’s…” 

He resists the compulsion to say what he means, the sentiments hidden just under the crumbling surface of this conversation. The suggestion that Prompto would want the dozens of photos that litter their apartment, memories of the two of them, of when they were happy together. It’s insulting.

“Noct...I don’t wanna forget about it. I mean, we’ll still always be friends anyway, right?”

He says it with hesitation, like for some reason Noctis wouldn’t want that too, like he wouldn’t take any bit of Prompto he could get, even if it hurts them both.

“Of course I want to...I just didn’t know if...it’ll be hard for you?” He doesn’t even mention how hard it will be for him because he can’t admit that without taking this conversation down a painful and pointless path. 

“Course, but...I mean, I always knew this would happen. We’ll stay friends.”

He looks at Noctis hopefully, like it’s totally okay, like being friends is just what he wants most in the world, the very best he could ask for.

It’s just...it’s so _Prompto._ Noctis should’ve known Prompto would be stronger and braver than him, more accepting of this desperate situation, because Prompto is tough. He’s been through poverty and loneliness and the difficulty of practically raising himself. And he’s been through a lot for Noctis too, busting ass to join the Crownsguard, learning how to hold a gun, making himself strong and nearly invincible.

And in spite of every setback and disappointment and struggle, all he’s ever been is grateful. Meanwhile, Noctis looks at his pampered existence and only sees the cracks, the pitfalls, myriad reasons to complain and feel sorry for himself.

He’s glad Prompto is taking it so well, because it’s making Noctis believe maybe it _will be_ okay. 

“Of course we’ll always be friends, and...I just wanna say that I’m super grateful for you, for like…” Noctis feels his voice crack and tries to skip past it, to say what he came here to say while it’s still appropriate for the two of them to be alone together. “I’m grateful that you were with me all this time, knowing how things would end...I know that I’ll always think of the past four years as the happiest of my life, and that’s because of you.”

“They were great for me too, but those won’t be your happiest years, I’m sure of it. Luna is…she’s a really good person, and I’m sure she’ll make you happy. She’s definitely a better choice for you than me, Noct. You’ll see.”

Noctis just stares at Prompto whose eyes retreat to his lap.

“She’s not better than you, Prom. Not to me.”

“You know what I mean. She’s an Oracle and royalty and she knows stuff about politics and ruling a kingdom. She’ll be a great princess or queen or whatever...and she’ll like...help you and stuff, and she’s really beautiful too—not that looks are important...”

“At least she’s blonde,” Noctis says, grinning at how Prompto blushes when he realizes what he means. “You know I’ve got a thing for blondes.”

“Heh, yeah. I know.”

Prompto’s hand comes to rest on the table before he adds, “And like, she can give you kids and a family too.”

His earnestness perplexes Noctis. He’s never spoken with Prompto about having kids, never even really thought about them.

“Oh, uh, sure,” he finally says, because he doesn’t want to admit that none of that means anything to him, not if the idea that he might want children brings Prompto comfort. 

“I just mean ‘cause she’s a woman. Don’t you...er, don’t you want kids someday?”

“Uh, never thought about it.” He knows it’s not his place to ask anymore, but he can’t help himself. “Do you...want kids?”

“Well, yeah...I always kinda hoped, but when I was with you...I didn’t think about it much…”

He smiles because he knows Prompto would be a great father and husband, and he could easily find a partner. Prompto could be happy with anyone, and anyone would be happy with him.

He feels relief mixed with a sickening jealousy for whoever gets to marry the love of his life. He feels like he may cry if he says much more or stays much longer, but he knows he still has some business left to attend.

“Prom...you know that you don’t have to stay in the Crownsguard. I could find another position for you.”

“Oh...well, yeah, I understand why you might not want me around now that you’ll have a wife.” Seeing Noctis’s expression, he quickly adds, “Sorry! I know you’ll still want me around, but you know what I mean. I would never get in the way of your marriage, Noct. I promise, and I won’t let it impact my job performance at all, but if you feel like maybe it would make it awkward for you guys, then yeah, I understand, and I’ll find another job.”

Noctis feels that same, familiar tug behind his left rib, the same one he felt that night they first kissed behind the gym. “Prom, if you still want to be in the Crownsguard, then it’s fine with me. I know you’ll still do your job...I just don’t want it to be hard for you...to see me with her?” The last question comes out in a whisper, forbidden words he’d rather left unsaid, as though by not mentioning them they might disappear. 

“Nah, Noct,” Prompto scratches the back of his neck. “I think Luna’s great...Honestly, I know it sounds weird, but if I coulda picked someone for you, that’s who I would’ve picked.”

“Not you?” Noctis asks without thinking, because he hates everything about what Prompto just said, doesn’t know how to get it through Prompto’s head that there’s no one better for him than the man sitting right in front of him.

“Well, ya know, I meant someone who’s royalty. You and me...we were never gonna last.”

Noctis feels that in the pit of his stomach, and it hurts how Prompto says it like it’s so _obvious,_ when Noctis spent all these years pretending the opposite. Noctis envies him, wishes he didn’t feel like his entire world and everything worthwhile about it was collapsing in front of his eyes while he’s powerless to stop it.

“I just mean...you’re a prince, dude. It just...it was freaking amazing while it lasted, and now you’re gonna marry someone awesome, and I’m happy for you. I really am.”

“Right. Right,” Noctis says, because Prompto is so good at this, pretending like it’s okay, and Noctis wants to be good at it too, for Prompto’s sake. “Well, I’m...guess I should get going…”

“Yeah, you’ve got a lot of important stuff ahead of you. Lots of preparing to do.”

“Yup,” Noctis agrees, his mind reeling, trying to will it all to go away, for reality to be kinder than Prompto casually talking about his wedding like they weren’t curled in each other’s arms a few nights ago, saying _I love you_ before they drifted off to sleep.

Prompto makes it seem so far away that Noctis wonders if it really is. 

There’s an awkward pause at the door. Normally they would kiss goodbye, and not just a peck. Prompto doesn’t do quick kisses—Prompto makes out, always wants a little more. So when Noctis has his shoes back on, and they’re just standing there staring at each other, the realization comes crashing down on him. They’ve had their last kiss already, and Noctis doesn’t even remember it, because, in his infinite stupidity, he never expected their relationship to end. 

“I’m really thankful,” Noctis says, and he means to say more, but he knows he’ll cry, and Prompto is being so brave. “Thank you,” he finishes, and he glances at Prompto and thinks he sees a little crack in his resolve, a little weakness escaping through the heavy set of his frown, but it’s over before he can be sure it was even real.


	2. Noctis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support on chapter 1! I discovered that there are only 78 Prompto/Luna/Noct fics, so we are in definite rarepair territory, and I feel very grateful I’ve found my people! Thanks for reading :)

She’s fantastic and resplendent, clothed in all white. His future bride. It’s only a matter of days now until the wedding. Days of lavish festivities, ballrooms filled with flowers, endless wine, and unapologetic joy. Two warring nations coming together by the joining of a prince and a princess.

He has to lead her to the floor for the first dance of the evening, customary for an honored guest. It should all feel so grand. It _is_ grand—the cascade of flowers gracing every table, the glow of sunset streaming from tall, open windows, the grand ballroom where Noctis has never quite felt comfortable but has always liked to be, if only because the world always feels bigger here, filled with people from across the vast stretches of Eos. There’s a promise here of extraordinary things and true romance.

Prompto is here, he knows it. They couldn’t spare one of their best with so much royalty in one room. The entire Crownsguard is either looking in towards the dance floor or out onto the stone balconies that display the vast stretches of Insomnia that lie beyond the Citadel. 

Noctis hasn’t been able to spot him, and his eyes can’t stop searching, wondering what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling, if he’s as fixated on Noctis as Noctis is on him. _Of course he is,_ he realizes. He has to be because it’s his job, to watch Noctis even as he’s putting an arm around someone else’s waist and taking someone else’s palm in his.

Ignis has told him bits and pieces, assuring him Prompto is fine and handling everything well, but Noctis remembers the way his face broke when he heard the news, and the way it cracked again when Noctis left his apartment. 

Ignis talked to Cor (without revealing any intimate details) and arranged to keep Prompto out of his regular line of sight for the last two weeks while they prepared for Luna’s arrival. Noctis assumes he put him in the kinds of boring posts that Prompto used to complain about— _Dude, I’m tellin’ ya...it’s like, imagine staring down a blank hallway for 10 hours straight. You start to see things. I’m convinced The Citadel is haunted. Oh, and I made friends with a mouse. Cute little guy. Named him Pippin, like from Lord of the Rings. He’s got that kind of goofy, cute personality, ya know? Anyway, I’m a regular Cinderella over here haha. Oh! Did I tell you..._

Noctis can’t dwell on it without scratching at an open wound, so he makes himself go through the motions of the waltz. His betrothed has been nothing but good to him. Luna seems happy to marry him, thankful even, judging from the warm grin that never leaves her face, the same one that turns into a wide smile when they make eye contact from across the room.

He thinks about how they’ve been communicating through her journal for so many years now, and they’ve shared their lives and even the occasional secret, yet he gets the distinct feeling that it meant more to her than it did to him. 

Still, Noctis is trying to make this work because he knows what’s most important is maintaining good relations with Niflheim, and by extension Tenebrae, _feels_ the pressure to produce an heir and make peace between their kingdoms, even if all he thinks of when he looks at her is an entirely different set of blue eyes.

Still, he goes through the motions. He tries, even if he’s pretty sure he fails, to be charming and polite, to make her feel welcome because she is everything Prompto says she is—kind and intelligent and sweet. When they’re together in front of everyone, they keep their conversations pleasant and unrevealing. He thinks during the course of the dance she might want to discuss something deeper, but he makes a joke about how he’s got to concentrate on not stepping on her feet, and she laughs and allows him silence.

Just as the dance ends, he finally sees Prompto across the room, trying to look stoic as he stands at attention, but Noctis recognizes the despair in his eyes, a plea that touches the depths of Noctis’s heart. He says some quick pleasantries to Luna, even kisses her hand, before he excuses himself, making his way across the room as fast as he can without revealing the person he’s desperate to see. By the time he makes his way through the throng of bodies, people with well-wishes and congratulations he’d sooner not accept, Prompto is gone, but Noctis spots Gladio at the nearest post. 

“Where’s Prompto?”

“Uhh, just had to step out for a sec.”

“But where did he _go_?”

“Noct, I’m not supposed to—“

“ _Where is he?!”_

Noctis immediately shrinks at the look of shock Gladio offers in response. “Sorry.”

“It’s just...he asked me not to say anything to anyone, okay? And I told him I wouldn’t, so there. I suck at lying, but I’m still not gonna tell you where he is.”

“Thanks a lot,” Noctis mumbles before he’s sneaking out of the ballroom and into the long, much darker hallway that will eventually lead their esteemed guests back to their private quarters at the end of the night.

He thinks about where Prompto could even go to hide _._ He can’t have gone far because he wouldn’t want to abandon his post for long, and he knows not to visit the guest rooms when they’re in use.

He decides to check the utility closet where they would sometimes sneak off to make out, and he opens the door to find Prompto, his posture ungraciously slumped as he sits on an overturned cleaning bucket, face buried in his hands, sobbing.

Noctis feels a desperate desire to stand him up and demand he be _Prompto_ again—strong and optimistic and unfailingly cheerful, capable of handling this situation far better than Noctis can, but it’s too much to ask, and he knows it, so he shuts the door behind him and kneels at Prompto’s feet, his hands clawing to clasp Prompto’s in his own. “I’m sorry, Prom,” he cries. “So sorry. Say you’ll forgive me for dancing with her.”

Prompto finally looks at him with a red face and swollen eyes, and Noctis wishes he could disappear for allowing himself to make Prompto so unhappy.

“Noct,” Prompto says, and his tone is surprisingly level, his tears subsiding. “What’re you doing here? You gotta go back.”

“I don’t wanna go back. I’m staying with you _.”_

“Noct, you shouldn’t say that.”

“I’m yours, I swear. I’m yours,” he pleads. “Let me show you.” He adjusts to Prompto’s height and pulls him into a desperate kiss. Prompto barely reciprocates it, and when Noctis looks into his eyes, he sees only terror, lit by the single, artificial bulb that dangles above their heads. “You’ve gotta go back out there,” Prompto insists. “You’re gonna be her husband.”

“But I wanna be _yours,”_ Noctis insists as he folds his arms in Prompto’s lap so he can rest his head on them, relieved when Prompto doesn’t try to push him away. 

“I’m sorry, Noct, but there’s nothing we can _do.”_

“You want to marry me too though, don’t you?” he asks, looking up to gauge Prompto’s expression.

“Noct,” he pleads, precious blue eyes, willing it to be over. 

Noctis reaches for the buttons on his jacket, trying helplessly to tear them off, to expose Prompto’s flesh, taste skin that used to be his.

“I don’t care about her or being a prince,” he says, as he pulls and pries and fails to make any leeway, the jacket unyielding to his desperate efforts. He stops, his breathing heavy, not even sure what he wants anymore. 

“You’re freaking me out, dude.”

“Prompto, please please.”

“I’m not gonna let you be unfaithful to her. I can’t. She’s a really good person,” he pleads.

Noctis bites back a scream and weeps instead. Prompto gently pushes the bucket out from under him and kneels in front of him, pulling Noctis into his arms, letting Noctis’s head lay against his chest, stroking his hair like a child.

“Shh, it’s okay, buddy.”

Noctis rests and breathes in his scent and feels lighter as the echoes of his sobs take the last bit of fight he has left out of him until he’s numb and resigned, limp in Prompto’s arms.

“The thing is...I made a promise to Luna a long time ago, to take care of you. If it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t even be friends. I owe her everything, Noct. I can’t do this to her, or you. It’s not your fault you gotta marry a princess. I’ve just gotta be tougher, ya know? I won’t cry like that ever again, I promise.”

Noctis nods into his chest, as if he understands, because he has no resistance left. Everything Prompto said is true. Prompto holds him tightly, and he eventually leaves with Prompto offering a smile and an encouraging nod. He goes back to the ballroom and follows through on his promise not to look at Prompto for the rest of the night. 

  
  


* * *

The wedding is a blur of meaningless recitations and forced smiles, at least on his part. It is as inwardly painful as it is outwardly magnificent. Ignis spared no details, of course, as evidenced by the sylleblossoms dripping from the archway above their heads. 

And Noctis allows the fatal words to echo in his mind until he can almost mean them. _I do, I do, I do._

The bleak and unflinching reality that is the wedding reception is nothing compared to the dread that comes when he imagines the wedding night.

As they walk to his room together, he tries to force himself not to think of Prompto, because it feels like a betrayal to both of them. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s so charming and kind and handling the entire situation with a level of dignity and grace he can barely understand. 

When the door shuts behind them, there’s just silence. 

“Quite the day, wasn’t it?” she says with a smile, taking a few steps into the room, thoughtfully observing the paintings on the walls, artworks Noctis has never bothered to notice himself.

She stops in front of the fireplace. There’s a glow that outlines her figure, a magnificent silhouette of yellow light. It’s warm and inviting, and Noctis reminds himself how lucky someone else would be to have her. He walks towards her and stands a foot to her side, following the path her eyes take from the fire to the painting above it. It’s a painting of his father on the throne, with Noctis as a child beside him. 

“That’s just how I remembered you,” she says, turning towards him, “and I was pleased to discover that you’re just as handsome now as I thought you were then. I had quite the crush on you,” she admits with a faint blush. Her eyes positively sparkle in the glow of firelight as she gently takes his hand.

“You’re beautiful,” Noctis says. “Just looking at you in the firelight, I was thinking how anyone would be lucky to marry you.” He means it, maybe not in the way she wants him to, but he does. 

She smiles. “That’s very sweet of you to say. I’ll admit that even though it might seem silly, I’ve always held the possibility of our marriage in the back of my mind.”

“Really?” It’s all he can think to say as she squeezes his hand and smiles at him with genuine warmth. He can tell she’s the type of person who will always look on the bright side. It’s surprising how much she reminds him of Prompto.

He thinks maybe he can try to be what she needs—for her sake, for their kingdoms, even for Prompto. As out of place as thoughts of Prompto feel in this unfamiliar and stuffy room with Luna wearing the wedding ring that inextricably ties her to Noctis, it’s still sort of comforting to remember that Prompto has found some semblance of peace in this situation, and maybe Noctis can too. 

“Can you help with my dress?” Luna asks, as she turns to present her shoulders to him. The fire continues to make her essence alluring, the glow of her porcelain skin enticing even as he’s afraid to know what lies underneath the folds of fabric.

He does as he’s asked, unzipping her dress with shaking hands to reveal a sheer, white corset and a hint of delicate lace where the zipper ends. He withdraws his hands as if burned, thankful she can’t see.

As he watches her undress, Noctis decides she’s like Ignis, someone who can look composed and graceful doing just about anything, even maneuvering her way out of a gigantic ball gown. When she finally slips up and almost trips on the train, Noctis steadies her, his hand resting on the curve of her waist. He’s tempted to withdraw at the intimacy, but he forces himself to look at her instead, following the connection of flesh from his hand, up her torso, quickly past the curve of her breasts to rest on pale, freckled shoulders that look remarkably like someone else’s.

It’s a small fact he can cling to, even as he reminds himself of his promise _not_ to think of Prompto, not now.

He takes a step closer and kisses her shoulder experimentally, and her hand slowly encompasses his, where it rests on her waist, and she guides it up until it’s gliding over the curve of her breasts to the warmth of her exposed throat before she leans towards his lips.

Prompto is the only person he’s ever kissed, so it feels foreign to him, trying to decide the pace of it and guess what she might like. But he’s surprised that it’s not _bad,_ even if he desires nothing else beyond it.

As she separates their lips and reaches towards the button of his suit jacket, he feels a rush of nerves, a desire to push her away, make it stop. She looks at him then, and he looks away, biting his lip to stifle his emotions.

“We don’t have to do anything yet,” she whispers. “Would you prefer to wait?”

When asked so plainly with a curious expression, bereft of judgement, Noctis provides an honest answer. “Yes. _”_

“I’m sorry, Noct,” she worries, as if she’s done something wrong, like she’s at fault for wanting to do exactly what they’ve been bidden to do. It’s the same thing Prompto would do, blame himself for something that’s not even his fault, like when he found out he was an MT and was sure Noctis was going to break up with him. 

“It’s fine, Luna. It’s really fine. It’s my fault, that I’m not, um, ready yet. I just need more time, to get used to it—I mean, to get to know you better.”

“You know, Noct, I regret that this is the first time we’ve gotten to speak alone since our engagement was announced. In the rush of preparations for the wedding, I desired nothing more than to sit and be with you, to catch up on the events of your life. I appreciated your letters, but I’d still like to hear about it from your lips. Please, let us be friends first. The rest will follow.”

He smiles back, relieved and a little amazed. 

“Do you have some pajamas I could borrow?” she asks. “I wondered if maybe we could sneak down to the kitchen for some food? I was so nervous today, I barely ate.”

“Yeah, Luna,” he smiles, “I’ll get you some PJs and show you where Iggy hides all the good snacks.”

He doesn’t watch as she changes into his clothes. When she’s done, he thinks how she should look comical in a pair of his sweatpants and one of his oversized, long-sleeved sweaters, but she looks like she stepped out of a clothing ad—maybe it’s the fact that she still has her fancy hair and make-up from the wedding, but he doesn’t think so. He thinks that’s just how Luna _is._

When they’re outside the door, Noctis has a sudden fear that Prompto might see, but he greets the guard on duty, relieved to discover a less familiar face. 

She takes his hand, as they sneak quietly down the hallway. “Remember when we did this in Tenebrae?”

Noctis chuckles at the memory, “Yeah, I remember my wheelchair was squeaky, and we thought we’d get caught.”

“I didn’t ever tell you? We _did_ get caught. My father told me the next morning. He said the guards were keeping an eye on us the whole time and warned me not to do it again. Of course, I didn’t let that stop us.”

They arrive in the kitchen, and he finds a stepstool to reach the cupboard where Ignis hides all the cookies and potato chips. 

“Damn, this is exactly what I wanted,” Luna remarks, and Noctis gives her an incredulous look because he didn’t know she swore, like ever. 

“What?” she asks, grinning up at him.

“Nothing, just didn’t think you were the kinda person who would say the word _damn._ I’ve been trying _not_ to use curse words around you, because I thought you’d act like Iggy does, like I thought you’d be offended by it.”

She laughs at that, “No, _Ravus_ is the stickler for things like that. I was never bothered much by foul language. I just try not to use it in mixed company.”

“You’re wiser than me then.”

“You don’t mind me using curse words, do you?”

“Hell no,” Noctis grins as he hands her a fistful of snacks.

As they’re leaving the kitchen, Luna disappears into the wine cellar for a moment and returns with a bottle of red. She shrugs, “Just in case.”

They sneak their spoils back to the room and sit on the bed, not minding the crumbs or worrying about spilling wine on the bedsheets or the fact that their guard might overhear them gigging as they drink said wine straight from the bottle. 

Noctis is feeling marvelously tipsy and even a little happy when Luna says, “I keep meaning to ask you. How’s Prompto? You stopped mentioning him as much in your letters, but then I believe you said he was training to be in the Crownsguard. I’ve always been fond of him for helping my dog Pryna. Are you two still friends?”

He tries not to let the real emotion behind it show when his stomach sinks, and he says, “We’re still friends, yeah.”

“Perhaps he’d like to have tea with us sometime when he’s not on guard? Or even when he is. I’d like to thank him again.”

He tries to think of a quick lie that won’t reveal the way his stomach is twisting at the very thought of forcing Prompto to be alone with them, to hear the person who broke them up _thanking him._ He can’t do that to Prompto. 

“Oh I’m sorry. Did you have a falling out or something?” Luna asks.

“Something like that,” Noctis mumbles, and to his relief, she drops it. 

He’s not able to reclaim the moment after that and says he’s tired, and she agrees to sleep, even as he can see a hint of concern in her expression. 

It’s not until they’re in bed, her back turned away from him, that he realizes that of all the women in the world, she’s probably the best possible outcome for him. Everything about her is right—she’s compassionate and understanding, clever and funny. She curses, drinks, likes to break rules (in a classy kind of way). Everything about her is perfect, _except_ for the fact that she’s a woman. 

He tries to compensate for that unmistakable reality by moving in closer and putting an arm around her, pulling her to his chest until he feels warm lips tenderly kiss his hand. 

Even as he’s relieved that he’s gotten the best possible outcome, he feels a deep sorrow from knowing that no matter how hard he tries, he’ll never be the best outcome for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m honestly not sure how many chapters this will be now, but my guess is from 7-8. If you like the story, encouraging comments of any kind are appreciated and always inspire me to write stories more quickly. Thank you!


	3. Luna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your lovely comments! I hope you continue to enjoy!

They spend two weeks at the Citadel to wrap up the final political negotiations surrounding their union before heading to Altissia. Now they’re five days into their week-long honeymoon, and it’s been romantic and magical beyond Luna’s wildest expectations—morning room service enjoyed in a lavish hotel bed, hands clasped as they walk the bright streets in search of afternoon gelato. They agree to each choose a different flavor so they can exchange cones mid-walk. There’s a symmetry to their desires that surprises her and confirms her belief that they’re meant for each other. 

He’s thoughtful, kind, and incredibly gentle. Funny too. He uses many strange and informal phrases that make her laugh. The first time he calls her dude, she almost spits out her coffee, and he quickly apologizes, afraid she sees it as an insult, but she doesn’t stop smiling for minutes after, because she knows that Noctis only speaks candidly with people he trusts.

The doubts that began their wedding night have faded with the assurances of every passing day. She’s even convinced him to take her out dancing tonight, even though he insists it’s been a long time since Ignis gave him lessons. He makes her promise to never tell his advisor how badly he embarrasses himself.

She’s been taking notes, making little observations that will help her reach her goal tonight. She’s guessed that Noctis’s favorite color is black because it’s practically the only color he wears. She snuck off to a lingerie shop earlier to find a form-fitting body suit, equal parts expensive black lace and sheer fabric, with thigh-high stockings to match. 

It’s not that she didn’t bring the lingerie gifted during her bridal party with her. It’s that Noctis hasn’t shown interest in a single thing she’s worn yet. The way he looks at her borders somewhere between polite indifference and pity. 

When she’s tempted to cry, she reminds herself that he’s the one who takes _her_ hand when they leave their hotel for the day’s adventures and thoughtfully pours her a glass of wine at the end of them.

It’s obvious he cares, so she tries to forget about those _other_ observations, the way he backs away whenever she’s bold enough to tease her fingers under his shirt and trace them across his bare waist, the way he never holds her when they kiss, the fact that she never catches him admiring her, no matter what she wears. He does say that she’s beautiful, and she thinks he really means it, but it doesn’t assuage her most persistent fears. 

She reminds herself of her superior intuition. It’s what makes her a successful oracle, what connects her to the gods and by extension all of humanity. She’s communed with the Six, seen divinity, heard voices that would make most mortals weep. 

And yet as she stares across the table at her own husband, concentrating as he separates out the chunks of vegetables from his noodles, she decides the conclusion she’s been tempted to make about him is one she cannot accept, and if she can change the fate of humanity, by all rights, she should be able to change her own.

She feels a thrill of pleasure at remembering what she’s wearing underneath her black dress tonight, a dress strategically chosen for its low cut and the way it hugs her curves while still hiding the frills of black lace underneath. 

She observes her husband’s hands, strong and smooth, and imagines them becoming bold and insistent, his pink lips compelled to her throat. She shifts in her seat and lifts a piece of sushi to her mouth. She doesn’t have much of an appetite, because she knows anything that goes wrong tonight could ruin the mood, and she can’t risk seeing it again, that look of pity’s and the smile that doesn’t enliven his eyes.

Not tonight, not tonight.

She squeezes his hand where it rests on the table, and he looks up at her. His smile is warm and precious, so different in public than the frightened man she encounters when she tries to weave patterns of intimacy in their hotel bed.

He’s not as bad at dancing as he claimed. The bartender gives them free shots of top-shelf tequila when he discovers they’re the royal newlyweds, and she thinks that helps. The alcohol gets him out of his head a little—hers too.

She’s thrilled when he holds her close even though she reminds herself it’s just a requirement of the dance, that every couple in the room is doing the same. Still, it emboldens her—to breathe in his scent, to feel the tickle of his hair on her cheek, his palm in hers, his hand on her waist. He smiles at her whenever he’s not wearing a frown of concentration as he attempts to remember the steps. 

He asks for a break and heads for the restroom, and she asks the waiter to put them in a private booth off the main floor. She offers a generous tip and orders a pitcher of sangria.

When Noctis comes back wearing his black button-up covered by a pinstripe vest and trendy, floral-patterned tie, she feels desire, warm and insistent. He’s all hers, they belong to each other now, and she _wants_ to belong to him and protect him, because he is so sweet and fragile, boyishly handsome and a little naive, unsure of himself in the most endearing way. 

When he joins her at their booth, she urges him closer, until their thighs touch, before she lifts her glass.

“To our happiness,” she says.

He silently lifts his glass and attempts a smile.

By the time they’re walking back to the room, she can feel the pleasant warmth of alcohol that gives a little confidence, but leaves as soon as they’re alone together. She has a moment of panic and wills it to pass. When he pulls the door closed behind them, she makes her move.

“Noct,” she says, pushing him gently against the door and pulling her body flush with his. She kisses his neck and feels his hand grazing her waist, not quite the urgency she was hoping for, but a connection nonetheless.

“I wore something special for you,” she whispers, and she unzips her dress, because she’s too nervous to ask him to do it. She slides down the straps, and it pools at her feet. Every inch of the lingerie hugging her figure feels electrified. She reminds herself how enticing she looked in the mirror, how this was the prettiest and most expensive lingerie she could find. She meets Noctis’s eyes, and she’s thankful to find he’s at least not avoiding her as he studies the outfit in silence.

“I was hoping, if you wanted, maybe we could try again tonight,” she whispers. 

His hand drifts down her waist and lands on the small of her back before dipping down to gently follow the curve of her ass, gently squeezing it. The kiss he gives her then seems desperate, and she tries to say it’s because he wants her so badly, but the clumsiness of it awakes a new worry in her mind. It’s a fear she wills away as she kisses him back, breaking away just long enough to undo the buttons on his vest before he can tell her no.

He helps her undress him until he’s down to his underwear, black boxer briefs that contrast beautifully with his pale skin. He’s muscular despite his thin frame. She takes his hand and guides him back to the bed. She thinks about telling him how she feels about him, how badly she wants this to happen and how much she actually likes him—not just because it was arranged this way, but because of who he is.

Instead, she sits on the bed and pulls him between her thighs. She wraps her legs around his, willing him not to go away. She draws adoring lines across his skin, from abs to chest, and she finally dares to look in his eyes and sees a frightened child.

“You haven’t done this before, have you?”

He bites his lip, hesitates, before he says a soft “No.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to force you,” she says, trying to keep a level tone that won’t reveal the panic and disappointment that threatens to overcome her—the excuses she’s been making for why her husband doesn’t want her come spilling out anyway. “I’m pushing things too fast. We’ve really only just met. I’m forcing myself on you. I’m so sorry.”

She breaks down then, her legs falling limp before she lifts them onto the bed and hugs them towards herself. Noctis sits next to her and puts his arm around her, pulling her close. She thinks it’s the first time his touch has had any actual conviction behind it as she succumbs to tears.

Then there’s a whisper, the softest confession spoken into the long silence. 

“Luna, I’m gay.”

* * *

She’s been brave about it. She hasn’t complained—not that night nor any night since. She’s been understanding and strong, because Noctis can’t help that he’s gay any more than she can help that she’s falling in love with him. 

Yet in her most dark and desperate hours, she finds places to be alone and indulges her desire to cry, to express the humiliation of dashed hopes. For so long, she dreamt of him, cherishing the pictures he sent her, reading romance into every letter. She should’ve suspected, somewhere along the line, how one-sided their attachment truly was.

She wonders if she would change it, if she wishes she were married off to someone else. In spite of everything, she can’t say that either, because she’s seen her share of bad men with destructive egos and too much power. She knows how miserable a woman can be, and she’s not miserable. She’s appreciated, even adored. There is never an unkind word spoken to her, and her perspective is valued, revered, even deferred to in matters of great importance. Noctis seems relieved, not intimidated, by her willingness to voice her opinions.

And Noctis tries, she sees he does. Now that she’s stopped attempting to seduce him, he’s been so open and sweet with her. One day he even insists she download the King’s Knight app he loves so much, and he takes the time to teach her all the rules. They sit next to each other in bed, staying up way later than they should, and he curls himself into her arms at the end of it, and she thinks their relationship feels intimate and sweet, with all the innocence of first love.

In spite of her relative happiness, she knows things can’t go on like this forever. They’ll have to compromise, not because of what she wants, but because of what their kingdoms need.

To that end, she knocks on the door to Ignis’s office, hearing a gentle summons inside. He’s hunched over a pile of papers, but he straightens up when he sees her.

“Lady Lunafreya, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you in private.”

He nods and gestures for her to sit in the chair across from his desk. She knows Ignis doesn’t have the time for pleasantries, even if he always insists he does, so she gets straight to the point.

“I’m here because Noctis told me he’s gay.”

He stares at his desk for a time, then nods. “Yes, I’m aware. He told me about the events of your honeymoon.”

“You two are very close.”

“Probably closer than a prince and his advisor should be.”

“No, I don’t think so...At the very least, it means I can speak with you candidly about my concerns.”

There’s a pause before he replies, “Of course.”

“I have been informed of the urgency with which we must produce an heir, how it is the wish of everyone to show lasting solidarity between our kingdoms...but I don’t see how it can be done, Ignis.” She nearly sobs in response to his concerned look. It isn’t like her to break down in front of others over trivial concerns that have less to do with the fate of the world and everything to do with her own. She composes herself long enough to say, “I won’t force him to be with me. I can’t...I can’t make him…knowing he doesn’t want to.”

Ignis sighs, and his defeated posture makes her feel understood for the first time since her marriage.

“I’ll confess that I’ve been worried about this for many years,” Ignis admits. “I was... _relieved_ when I discovered you were his betrothed. I thought of anyone in the world, you would be the most understanding...The truth of the matter is, the fate of Eos depends on the two of you. If you have a boy, we secure a succession of kings. If you have a girl, we are assured another oracle. There can be no bad news, unless there is no child.”

“But I can’t _force_ him,” she pleads.

“Noctis is...he can be stubborn, but I believe he will come around to it. He’s aware of his duty as prince, as much as he likes to pretend he’s not, and besides, he likes you, Luna. I know he’s not very good at expressing himself, but he admires you, and he’s impressed with how quickly you’ve leveled up at King’s Knight.” Ignis offers a sly smile, and she can’t help but grin back. “I’m sure that he will reconcile himself to the idea in time, and I’d like you to know, purely because I don’t believe Noctis will ever tell you enough, that you are a charming and beautiful young lady. All of Lucis thinks so. We’re all so pleased to have such a talented and competent princess in our midst, myself especially.”

It’s hard for her to express the deep yearning his words have answered—the desire to be assured that she’s wanted.

“Please, just give it time.”  
  


* * *

  
She does. She’s patient. Unfailingly patient. 

The once rare glimpses of physical intimacy are given, but only as part of routine—a chaste kiss of greeting at breakfast (because she’s an early riser and Noctis always sleeps in), a peck on the cheek goodnight, sometimes cuddling under the sheets, depending on his mood. He never tries to progress it further, and neither does she. 

There’s one night she can’t sleep, and she remembers how happy she was when she discovered who she’d be marrying, how she welcomed it, and it hits her with a crushing force—the loneliness she’ll always harbor, the needs she’ll never fulfill. She walks the halls of the Citadel, trying to find some quiet place to be alone. She’s dressed in one of her fine nightgowns, light blue silk that glides along the floor as she walks. She finds an abandoned corridor and sits against the wall, hiding behind some ancient statue. She tries to be quiet as she succumbs to tears.

“Luna?” 

She startles and lets out a gasp of surprise before she quickly recognizes the Crownsguard uniform.

“My apologies,” she says, watching the guard approach her. She starts to wipe her tears and stand, realizing what a foolish thing this was to do, wondering how to explain herself. 

“Oh no, I’m the one who’s sorry. I probably shoulda said something when you passed me in the hall. I didn’t think too much of it until I heard you, um, crying.”

She can see his face is crimson even in the dull glow of moonlight through the stained glass windows. She watches him as he scratches the back of his neck, looking nervous. It’s a gesture she’s often seen from Noctis, and that’s when she realizes it.

“Prompto?”

“Yeah,” he says with the slightest grin. “I can’t believe you recognized me.”

“Noctis sent me pictures of you a few years ago.”

“He did?”

“You haven’t changed very much since then.”

“Oh, um, yeah. Guess not,” he says uncomfortably, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

She smiles in spite of the sorrow she’d felt just moments ago. There’s something about his candor and innocence that’s so endearing. “You two are very alike, you and Noctis.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, bouncing again before quickly catching himself.

“Yes, you’re both very…” She struggles with the words, not wanting to offend him. She settles on, “You have similar mannerisms.”

“Huh, that’s funny. Guess we spent a lot of time together, so it kinda makes sense.”

She observes him, his eyes studiously avoiding hers. He’s quite handsome, not at all like the overweight boy with glasses Gentiana described all those years ago. “I’ve been meaning to seek you out anyway, to thank you for caring for Pryna when she was a puppy.”

“Oh man, it was nothing. She was a total cutie. I heard you brought her with you?” he asks eagerly, “I’ve been keeping an eye out, but I haven’t seen her around yet.”

“You know, it’s a wonder I haven’t seen _you_ until now. I would’ve suspected our paths would cross sooner.”

“Ah well, I’m new to the Crownsguard—ya know compared to the other guys, so they usually put me in places that look kinda like they’re haunted—not like I’m complaining! But yeah, that’s why I’m heeere,” he sings the last word, ending with a nervous laugh. 

There’s a long silence, which Prompto eventually breaks. “Is everything okay, your highness?”

Her face falls, the smile Prompto put there quickly fading as she remembers. To avoid the subject, she says, “There’s no need for formality between us. Please call me Luna.”

He chuckles, and she eyes him curiously. “It’s just...you said _I’m_ like Noct, but you’re kinda like him too. I mean, you’re not into titles and stuff like that. Noct hates when people call him highness.”

“I suppose we do share an inclination towards informality.”

“You’re both humble too, and nice. You’re different than I always assumed royalty would be, ya know? I was super surprised when Noctis wanted to be my friend.”

“I’m so glad he did.”

“Well, it was all because of you and what you asked me to do after I saved Tiny—Pryna,” he corrects, and Luna vaguely remembers that Prompto gave her dog that adorable nickname. “You changed my life. I wouldn’t know Noct or be on the Crownsguard. I probably wouldn’t even have friends…”

“You would,” she insists. “and even though we haven’t spoken as much as I’d like, I’ve certainly always considered you a friend.”

“Really?” 

“Of course. Besides, you’re very important to Noctis.”

“Hmmm,” he says, bouncing again.

“He always spoke about you so fondly in his letters. I feel like I know you already.”

Prompto’s face registers brief surprise before he composes himself.

“He always told me you were his best friend,” she explains. “Oh wait. I’d forgotten. Noctis said you had a falling out of some sorts?”

“Oh, uh yeah.” His hand moves to the back of his neck. “Yeah, we don’t talk so much lately…”

“It’s a shame. I know you meant a lot to him.”

There’s a long silence in which Luna wonders if it’s too much to ask, but she follows her intuition which has never led her astray. “I know I asked it of you once already, but the truth of the matter is that Noctis needs a friend. He seems lonely, and I have a feeling you might be the right person to help him.”

“Oh Luna, no. I’m not the right person. He doesn’t need me when he’s got you.”

“I’m not enough, I’m afraid,” she sighs, quickly covering her lapse of self-pity with a reassuring smile. Prompto seems to catch it anyway, judging from the way he frowns.

“Trust me, you are. You’re perfect for Noct.”

“I don’t think so.” 

She wonders if Noctis ever told Prompto his secret, if Prompto understands just how mismatched their affections are, how insurmountable the obstacles are to their marriage. 

“Yes, you are. You’re a nice person, and you’re patient. Noctis needs that. He gets in his head a lot. He’s kinda like—he’s not _fragile,_ but he like needs to feel protected, I guess? ‘Cause he gets overwhelmed a lot, but you’d never know it, because he never asks for help. He needs someone who can guess when he’s upset and kinda like, snap him out of it.”

“Please have tea with us sometime,” Luna urges, placing a hand on his arm. “It’s just you know him so well...”

“I dunno…”

She can sense that Prompto is reliably sympathetic and understanding. She knows he would comfort her, dry her tears, probably make her laugh it all away if she told him the truth about her deepest fears. He’s someone to be trusted. 

“Please, Prompto. Just one afternoon. You know him better than almost anyone.”

“Well...if Noctis is okay with it, then, yeah, of course I’d do it.”

“I’m sure he will be. He needs a friend so badly, just as much as I do, I’m afraid.”

“Well, I don’t know if it counts for much, but you can count me as a friend too.”

“I know I can,” she says, and she follows her instinct to embrace Prompto, wrapping her arms around his waist. He hugs her back reluctantly at first. She supposes he wasn’t expecting it, but he does eventually relax into it, and she’s surprised when his fingers graze her waist. The thin silk of her nightgown magnifies the touch, and it suddenly feels too intimate. She thinks Prompto notices it too, because he backs away quickly. She doesn’t miss the way his eyes pan down her figure before he turns beet red and his eyes become glued to the floor.

“I’ll let you know about the meeting,” she says, dazed and a little breathless.

“What?”

“The tea, I mean, with Noctis.”

“Oh, hah, yeah. Of course. Let me know...about that.”

“I will.” She nods and takes her leave, stepping around the corner as quickly as she can without making it obvious that she wants to run.

She closes the bedroom door behind her. As she watches Noctis sleeping peacefully, she feels a wave of guilt combine with the rush of adrenaline from the way Prompto looked at her.


	4. Luna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse the delay in posting! I had a time-sensitive fic I had to work on this month so I had to push this baby to the side, but not anymore!
> 
> Y’all are leaving the loveliest comments and making me so stoked about this fic in spite of the fact that it has less hits and kudos than most my one shots. Said it before & will say it again, I feel like I’ve found my people, and I’m so grateful for that!
> 
> P.S. There’s lots of references to Brotherhood in here. I think I’ve explained them well enough that you don’t have to see it, but Prompto’s episode is on YouTube for free if you’re interested. Spoiler alert: it’s VERY cute.

“I had a discussion with Prompto yesterday.”

Noctis looks up from his game of King’s Knight, a rare occurrence, especially in the evening. “Huh, really?”

“Yes. I invited him to have tea with us.”

“Hmm.”

“I get the impression he misses you.”

“What did _he_ say about having tea with us?”

“He said he’d be delighted to join us if you agreed to it.”

Noctis is quiet for an unusually long time. “When did you see him?” 

“It was after you went to bed. I couldn’t sleep, and I came across him in the hall.”

“What hall?”

“That deserted wing with all the paintings of the obscure Caelum descendants.”

“Hate that place. So creepy,” Noctis shudders.

“Very creepy,” she agrees, thankful to see some of his tension dissipate almost instantly. 

“Prom probably hates it there. He used to say it was haunted.”

She smiles, then pauses, remembering one of the few details about their relationship Noctis has revealed in the past. “I thought you and Prompto weren’t close after he joined the Crownsguard?”

“No. Well, kinda. Things were just, um, different.”

“I don’t meant to pry...but I’ll confess I’m curious as to what changed your friendship.”

“Uh, just normal stuff. Drifting apart…”

She stares at him, hoping for a further explanation that she doesn’t get. He finally notices she’s watching and adds, “I’ll think about it. Having tea, I mean.”

His attention returns to his phone again, a sure sign that the conversation is over, and she climbs next to him in bed. She takes out her own phone, hoping to distract herself so she won’t start obsessing over yet another secret her husband keeps from her, but it doesn’t work. Even after the lights are out, her fears remain, restless and insistent. They start with Noctis and then slowly drift to Prompto. 

There’s no use denying how badly she wants to see him again. Reliving the memory of his hand on her waist feels like a more consensual fantasy than any she could have of her own husband, because she knows any fantasy of Noctis would be wholly unrequited. Noctis touches her as a consolation, out of guilt, but Prompto’s fingers held curiosity and interest. 

Or maybe that’s just her imagination again, finding hope where there is none. The only real romance she’s had was a secret, forbidden one, with one of her guards. That’s how she knows what she’s missing with Noctis, that spark of something wonderful promised in Prompto’s touch, the irreplaceable feeling of being wanted and desired. 

She reminds herself that Noctis is a virgin as if it means something. She indulges the possibility that maybe he’s wrong about his sexuality. Perhaps if she tries hard enough she can convince him to want her. Maybe it’s like Ignis says, that he’ll come around to it given time.

But he said it so clearly and with no hesitation. _I’m gay._

She makes up her mind. She promises herself she’s only going to seek Prompto out to chat, to coax out more of the secrets her husband keeps. And yet she knows, from the guilty sweat of her palms, what she really wants—a hand on her waist, lips on her throat, fingers that slip off the straps of her nightgown, palms that cup her breasts, the mark of his desire hard and insistent, pressed against the fabric of her nightgown.

She hears Noctis shuffle beside her and pretends she’s asleep. She silently watches as he gets out of bed and walks towards the door. He hesitates and turns back to look at her. She quickly snaps her eyes shut and is thankful when she hears the door open then close.

She doesn’t hesitate to follow him. Her curiosity is fueled by an already active and suspicious imagination. He’s her husband. His secrets are her secrets, whether he wants them to be or not. She deserves to know, even if the means of knowing are beneath her.

She slips out of her room and feels the warmth of shame when she locks eyes with the guard on duty tonight who is standing right outside their bedroom door.

“Gladiolus...I didn’t expect you to be working so late.”

“I’m usually not, but Crowe called out sick, and since I’m Noct’s shield, they always call me first. Perk of the job,” he mumbles. “So, um…”

There’s an awkward silence, and Luna can’t decide what to do. In spite of their near-constant proximity, she doesn’t know Gladiolus well. She’s guessed that he’s close with Noctis, that their friendship extends beyond the confines of their official roles. She wonders how much he already knows about what’s going on between them, and then she decides she doesn’t have time to second guess herself.

“Where did Noctis go?”

He hesitates, and she immediately feels her face flush. That’s a bad sign. It means Noctis is somewhere he shouldn’t be, doing something he doesn’t want her to know about, and she feels for the first time that maybe she doesn’t _want_ to know after all. Perhaps the revelation is more than she can take.

She shakes her head. “Nevermind, it’s not my business.”

“Yeah it is,” Gladio insists, “He’s your husband.”

She’s not used to being spoken to quite so candidly. She overcomes her surprise to say, “Perhaps you’re right.”

“Highness, I—“

She’s nervous about the reasons he doesn’t finish his sentence, and the words spill forth. “What is it? Are you going to tell me what my husband has been keeping from me?”

She feels ashamed for the accusation in her tone, but Gladiolus doesn’t seem offended in the least, though he does frown as he responds. “He went that way,” he points, “but if he asks, I didn’t tell you.”

“Thank you,” she says with a nod of her head before she follows where he directs. The hallway shoots off in two directions, and she assumes he can’t have simply gone to the kitchen, so she takes a right, then a left, and ends up in the same hall where she encountered Prompto last night. She hears a whisper of voices, not loud enough to make out. She sneaks around a corner, hiding behind a statue of ancient armor, spying just like she and Noctis used to do as children.

They’re far enough away that she can’t determine what they’re saying, but she waits, frozen to the spot, unsure if it’s best to stay or go. Nothing happens after a few minutes, and she begins to feel how truly silly this all is, a grown woman out of bed to spy on her husband.

But then she remembers why she followed him here, that it’s the middle of the night, and he snuck out to see a friend he apparently hasn’t spoken to in years. There must be a reason for secrecy, the unusual hour, the way they’re whispering and standing so close, but she can’t determine it. She watches as Noctis nods and turns, heading back her direction, and it takes her a moment to realize she needs to return to the room before him if she doesn’t want to get caught. 

She turns the corner and runs, thankful that she was hidden far enough away to give her a head start. She slows to a brisk walk when she returns to the hallway that leads to their bedroom, reluctant for Gladio to know what transpired. He observes her curiously because she’s half out of breath and can’t hide her panicked look.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

She nods, disappearing into the room without another word, hurrying under the sheets and trying to calm the racing of her heart with long, slow breaths.

When the door opens, Noctis makes his way towards one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. Hours pass before she’s able to fall asleep, but Noctis doesn’t return to bed.

* * *

Noctis arrives at breakfast with his hair disheveled, looking hopelessly endearing. She’d love to pull him into bed again and rest with him all day. As hard as she tries, she can never seem to forget how handsome he is and how much more charming he becomes with every passing day.

She stands to greet him with a quick peck on the cheek, and he smiles at her, a remarkably sweet and soft smile, before he sits.

“How did you sleep last night?” she asks, her tone level and diplomatic, the way she’s always been trained, knowing how to mask her intentions from a lifetime under Niflheim rule.

“Mmm, alright. Had a little trouble sleeping,” he says, taking a bite of his toast, positively soaked with butter just the way he likes it.

“Anything bothering you?”

“Not really,” he shrugs. After a pause, he adds, “Oh, and, I was gonna tell you that I decided we could have tea with Prompto. I think you’re right. Maybe it’d be good for us to, uh, be friends again.”

“Lovely,” she says, feeling her pulse start to race at the prospect. She can’t back down now, not when she has a mission to accomplish. “How about this afternoon?”

He looks surprised at first, but then slowly nods. “Yeah, this afternoon is fine.”

“Very well. Gladiolus,” she says, “would you be so kind as to relay to Cor that we’d like Prompto to join us for tea this afternoon? As long as his shift can be covered, of course.”

Gladiolus nods. “Of course, your majesty.” She notices the swift glance he shares with Noctis before his eyes face forward again. 

* * *

They’re in the conservatory, surrounded by lush greenery and blooming flowers, walls of glass windows protecting them from the gentle pattering of rain that comes and goes outside. They watch it all from a wrought-iron table with matching white chairs. There are multi-layered plates of artistic desserts stacked in front of them, along with a decorative teapot and three matching teacups.

It’s obvious that Noctis is nervous. He keeps looking around expectantly, his leg shaking under the table. He’s been exceptionally quiet since breakfast. 

Prompto appears from under an archway of greenery and white flowers, still in his black Crownsguard uniform. While the cut and design of his attire is meant to be imposing, the way he bows his head and the blush on his cheeks reveals his true nature, guileless and sweet. She feels a warmth of affection for him as he clumsily takes the open seat at the table without making eye contact with either of them.

While before she was nervous, perhaps an extension of Noctis’s own anxiety, she feels a surprising sense of calm, knowing she is the most composed among the three of them and must rise to the occasion.

“I’m so pleased you could come, Prompto. I hope it wasn’t an inconvenience?”

“Oh no, no way,” he says with an awkward wave of his hand that ends up making contact with the table rather forcefully, causing the table and all the porcelain plates and cups to rattle. He blushes an even deeper shade of crimson than before, but quickly places his hands in his lap and adds, “Anywayyyy, it’s better than working—not that I don’t like my job!”

Prompto absentmindedly picks at his glove, his face in a concentrated frown as he stares at his lap, and Luna observes the way Noctis’s eyes fixate on him.

“Would you like to see Pryna now?” she offers, feeling instinctively that her dog’s calming presence might do wonders for all three of them, but especially Prompto.

“Oh sure! Yeah, totally,” Prompto says, finally meeting her gaze, albeit briefly. She and Pryna have always had an ability to communicate without words, and she sees her dog appear a few seconds later, an elegant ball of fluff that trots around the corner and takes a seat at Prompto’s side, looking up at him expectantly.

“Oh, wow!” Prompto exclaims. “I remember when you were just a puppy. He scoots off his chair and kneels to scratch behind both ears. Pryna, contrary to her usually refined nature, licks a stripe down Prompto’s cheek.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Luna apologizes. “She’s usually more well-behaved.”

“Oh it’s all good. Me ‘n Tiny go way back, _though you’re not so tiny now, are you?”_ Prompto croons in a baby voice as he scratches her some more, sitting cross-legged on the floor so Pryna can lay in his lap, even though she’s far too big for it.

As soon as she’s settled, Prompto looks up and glances between the two of them. “Sorry,” he grins. “It’s just we go way back. You remember that story, right Noct?”

Though Noctis seems surprised to be spoken to, he replies with “Yeah, I think you might’ve told me a long time ago, but would you mind—maybe you could tell it again?”

Luna can’t help but think they’re both so cute when they’re nervous, but underneath the nerves she can still see the remnants of their friendship. They’re eager to connect with one another. She commends herself for setting up this meeting and writes off the previous evening as probably no more than an innocent, and probably awkward, conversation between two old friends trying to reconnect.

“So I found this little girl,” Prompto says, petting Pryna’s back affectionately, “on my way home from school. She had a hurt leg, so I bandaged her up and took her home. I had like _zero_ friends at the time, so I would run home after class every day to take care of her. I’d give her baths and we’d play fetch and ugh, it was so fun! And then one morning I woke up, and found out she disappeared. I was _freaking out,_ thinking I’d left the door open or something, but then I got this nice letter from Luna telling me she was okay and, um, and then she asked me to become friends with you, Noct.”

“I was worried at the time,” Luna explains, “You seemed lonely in your letters. You never talked about any friends from school, only Ignis and Gladio, so I thought perhaps you needed a companion your own age.”

“Yeah, well,” Noctis says, “I _also_ had like zero friends.” After a moment’s silence, he asks, “Uh, when was that anyway? Must’ve been tenth grade?”

It’s an obligatory question, meant to break the silence, but Prompto seems evasive when he replies. 

“Oh uhhh,” Prompto says, scratching the back of his neck. “I dunno. Don’t exactly remember…”

It’s strange to Luna that after describing the story in such detail, he would forget the prominent detail of when it happened. 

“You would’ve been 12 or 13, I believe,” she says. They’re both silent, so she continues, “I don’t think you became friends right away. If I recall, you didn’t mention Prompto in your letters until a few years later.”

“Why’d you wait so long, huh?” Noctis teases.

Noctis’s tone is playful, but Prompto still seems on edge. “Well, I was just worried that I wasn’t good enough to be friends with you, since you’re a prince and all.” 

“Shouldn’t have worried, dude,” Noctis consoles him, finally starting to take note of Prompto’s anxiety. “I was shy then too. Even if you had talked to me, I probably would’ve been weird about it.”

Prompto stops petting Pryna entirely and stares at his lap. “Um, well, I tried, but I was really overweight at the time, and I just didn’t think you’d wanna be friends with me.”

“How come you never told me that?”

“It’s not a big deal, Noct. Seriously. Let’s just talk about something else.”

It’s fascinating to her, to see the wall come down between them. She can easily tell there’s still a deep familiarity and warmth despite whatever time they’ve spent apart, but it’s awkward now, neither seems sure what to say. She thinks of how to change the subject, but Noctis speaks before she can, eyes still trained on Prompto.

“Prom, what is it?”

“It’s nothing, Noct.”

“I know it’s not _nothing.”_

Prompto takes a deep breath, then sighs. “You remember that day I approached you behind the school and tripped over myself?”

“Sorry, but gotta be honest...not really?”

“Well, I fell on my face, and you, like, well, you tried to help me up, and you said I was _heavy—_ which was no big deal, because I _was—“_

It takes Noctis a moment to comprehend the implications of his confession. Luna feels the weight of it right away. Prompto had no friends and was afraid to speak to Noctis because he was a prince, and Prompto was insecure about his weight. Despite Prompto’s profuse thanks the evening before, she feels a rush of guilt at the thought that she asked him to do something that obviously made him very uncomfortable without consideration of how difficult it must’ve been.

“So you thought I wouldn’t like you because you were overweight?” Noctis asks. The remorse in his tone is heartbreaking. Luna almost feels she shouldn’t be there, as though she’s interrupting. They certainly haven’t acknowledged her presence in the course of the conversation.

“Well, yeah, but—“ Prompto begins.

“I would’ve dated you anyway, I hope you know that.”

Luna stops breathing, but neither of them takes notice.

“Well, no offense, Noct, but you never noticed me until I lost the weight. Look, I don’t _blame_ you or anything. It’s really—“

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry I made you feel that way.” 

“It’s okay, dude.” They share a look, and then Prompto notices Luna watching and offers an apologetic grin. “Sorry, Luna! Shouldn’t have gotten into all that. It was a looong time ago. So _anyway,_ what’s important is that we have you to thank for our friendship.”

Luna stares at him for too long before her instinct to be polite at all costs takes over, “It was my pleasure.”

She looks at Noctis who, though he seems lost in thought, does not appear even remotely aware that he used the word _dating_ to describe their relationship right in front of her. All the events are falling into place—Noctis is gay, and he dated Prompto, and he’s still in love with him. She’s less sure of Prompto’s feelings for Noctis, but it doesn’t matter. Her husband is in love with someone else, and that leaves absolutely no hope for her, no secret way to push her way into his heart, because it so clearly belongs to another. 

“I’m not feeling well,” she announces, a tactic she learned to use when she’s overwhelmed and fears her emotions might spill over into tears, or peak into frustration. “I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.”

“Oh,” Prompto says. “Well, I should leave too then.”

“You could still stay,” Noctis offers. He hasn’t even bothered to ask if she’s alright. With Prompto in front of him there is apparently no comparison, no room for her, no semblance of concern for her feelings. He has yet to realize she’s reeling, her vision blurring, her world falling apart right in front of him.

“Uh, Luna, are you okay?” Prompto asks.

“I just need a moment,” she insists, standing on unsteady feet and walking towards the exit with purpose, pushing open the door and exchanging the bright airiness of the conservatory for a dark hallway, lined in red carpet. She succumbs to a sob as soon as the door shuts behind her and is horrified to see Gladiolus again.

“What happened?” he asks, his expression of genuine concern a surprising comfort after feeling so totally invisible. She remembers his words from yesterday: _he’s your husband,_ and thinks he might tell her the truth.

“How long did Noctis and Prompto date?”

“Oh, well, I’m…”

“Please. _I beg of you,”_ she pleads, feeling more tears forming in her eyes, her body disobeying her by laying her bare in front of a near-stranger.

“They dated for at least four years.”

“And when did they break up?”

“Luna…”

“ _Please.”_

“They broke up when your engagement was announced.”

She feels the weight of that, the utter humiliation. She came all this way to marry someone she fancied herself in love with only to discover he not only won’t touch her, but is in love with someone else. Despite their long-standing friendship of all these years, he never considered warning her, not once. He reduced her to spying and begging instead.

It’s not that either of them really had a choice in their marriage, but he could’ve prepared her. She always believed that he at least considered her a friend, and now even that bond of trust is as worthless as his wedding vows.

She ignores Gladiolus’s plea as she yanks open the door and finds them having the gall to smile at one another. Even Prompto, who she believed so innocent and sweet, lied to her face. 

Noctis sees her first, and his face registers confusion, then terror.

“I _married you,”_ she says as calmly as she can manage, though her voice comes out louder than she means it, “and despite our years of friendship, you didn’t even bother to tell me that you were gay and still in love with him. And you,” she says glaring at Prompto who quickly looks away from her searing gaze, just as Pryna gets out of his lap and stands at Luna’s side. “You lied to me too. I came all this way. I left my home, my life, everything to marry you, and I was _thankful,”_ she says, a sob escaping her despite her determination to express her rage before succumbing to sorrow. “I was in love with you.”

There is a brief silence where she composes herself long enough to add, “I would ask for a divorce, if such a thing were possible, but since it is not,” she says, wiping at her tears, “I plan to request my own bedroom, and I insist that you don’t attempt to speak with me further outside of our official duties as husband and wife.” 

She thinks of reprimanding Prompto as well, but she can think of no recourse against him besides firing him from the Crownsguard, and he looks so pitiful and forlorn, she can’t bring herself to address him at all.

She takes her leave with a last glance at Gladiolus, standing with his arms folded and mouth open in shock. She makes her way directly to Ignis’s office and closes the door behind her before she’s even been invited in.

“I will require my own room going forward.”

“Of course, majesty,” he says, looking perhaps a bit surprised but keeping his composure nonetheless. “Perhaps the room adjacent to the one you share now—“

“No,” she interjects, “As far away from Noctis as possible.”

“May I ask the reason?”

“I know about Prompto.”

She finally sees his face break, his usual stoicism, replaced with panic. When he doesn’t speak, she does, even though she feels she might weep as soon as the words leave her lips. 

“I thought I could trust you. I came to you for guidance, because I believed you would tell me the truth about Noctis. You said I was welcome here, and yet all of you brought me here under false pretenses to marry a man who’s in love with someone else.”

Ignis tries to speak, but seems far too overwhelmed, his humility obvious in the bow of his head and the low set of his brow. She feels a surge of sudden compassion. Ignis didn’t personally arrange her marriage, and of course, his primary loyalty is to Noctis, just as Gentiana’s is to her.

“I apologize for speaking to you like that,” she adds softly, “but I do want my own room.”

“It was deserved,” Ignis sighs. “I became so caught up in the logistics of the wedding and the political benefits of the marriage—even what a good influence you might have on Noctis—that I failed to consider what it would be like for you. I will confess that in all matters of life, I often become blinded by Noctis’s own well-being to the neglect of others, and I fear it’s one of my greatest faults.”

“Please, Ignis. Forgive me. It’s your job as his advisor to do what is best for him.”

“But as his wife, his happiness will always rely on you. I owe you allegiance equal to his, and I swear from now on I shall give it freely, not only because of your connection to Noctis, but because you are well-deserving of it.”

There’s a great deal she might say, and she’s touched by his warmth and sincerity, but at the moment, emotional exhaustion is threatening to overwhelm her, so she simply settles for, “Thank you, Ignis.”

“You’re very welcome. There’s a large room in the west wing you might consider.”

“Is that the wing with all the Caelum portraits?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I know many find it a bit eerie there, but it’s a sizable room, and it’s as far removed from Noctis’s quarters as you can get. That is, if we don’t consider one of those old, drafty rooms in the upper floors. Those would require quite a bit of care before they would meet your standards. Of course, I am happy to improve one of those rooms to your liking, but—“

“No, that’s perfectly acceptable. My only request is that Prompto not stand guard there anymore.”

Ignis looks at her curiously. “I didn’t know you were so aware of the Crowsguard posts, but I appreciate your detailed involvement in the daily affairs of the Citadel. Consider it done.”

She nods, refusing to confess the real reason she’s familiar with Prompto’s schedule. “And…” she hesitates because it feels childish and petty, but she continues anyway, “can you make sure that Prompto is stationed away from Noctis’s quarters as well?”

His eyes only narrow slightly with concern before he nods.

“May I move in immediately?” Luna asks.

“Of course. I’ll have the housekeeping staff gather your things. While the room could probably use a more thorough cleaning, it should be good enough for today. I can imagine you’re in need of some rest?”

She finally feels strong enough to attempt a smile, “I am.”

“Then I shall leave you to it. At the risk of exhausting you further, might I ask if you’ve had any word on Gentiana’s arrival?”

“She comes and goes as the gods command, I’m afraid. As much as I might wish it, I can’t expect her to keep to my human schedule,” Luna insists. Even though she feels abandoned without her closest companion, she knows it’s selfish to demand the presence of a god, as if her mental breakdown had as much import as the will of the gods.

“And that is all the more reason for me to assist you,” Ignis adds with a reassuring smile. 

When she’s about to respond, the door bursts open.

“I’m so glad we found you!” Prompto pants, “We’re so sorry, Luna.”

She directs her attention to Noctis who stands behind him, winded but silent. He can’t even seem to make eye contact with her. “It’s quite alright,” she snaps before speeding past them and out the door.

She half expects, and maybe even hopes, for them to follow her, but they don’t. She makes her way to her new room in silence. She’s thankful to find the door unlocked and surprised to see the room is bright compared to the dim hall. It has tall windows and a long balcony overlooking the streets of Insomnia.

She steps outside and smells the air, accepts the energy of the city into her lungs, and tries to believe she’s still here for a reason. Gentiana always insists there are no accidents. Perhaps her destiny has nothing to do with Noctis or Prompto. Perhaps she’s meant to run this kingdom all on her own.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously did not intend for this to be such a slow burn, but here we are! In the next chapter, you’ll get to hear how our sweet, little Prompto is faring.


	5. Prompto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the amazing comments! Wow. The love for this rare pair has stunned me! Thank you, everyone! ❤️

Prompto is a mess. It’s his fault. He should’ve said no when Noctis came to him, all earnest and pleading with his pretty blue eyes, begging Prompto to be in his life again.

 _I miss you, Prom. Please, let’s just try to be friends. Nothing more than that. Luna says it’s okay. She_ wants _us to be friends. She said so herself._

Prompto should’ve said no, and he shouldn’t have met them this afternoon, and he definitely shouldn’t have mentioned that dumb thing about his weight. He’s not even sure why he did. He’d just been so nervous, and he’d let his mouth run too much, and now two of the most important people in Lucis are mad at each other because Prompto had to put himself right in the middle of a situation where he didn’t belong.

The truth is, even though he knew it was too soon, and his feelings for Noctis were still as raw and fresh as ever, Prompto’s never been able to deny Noctis anything.

And maybe, _maybe_ he should be blaming Noctis for inviting him,but Prompto’s never been able to blame Noctis for anything either. He knows him too well, knows Noctis would hurt himself before he ever hurt Prompto. 

And then there’s Luna. She deserves so much better than this. Frankly, she’s more competent and put together than him and Noctis combined, and yet somehow they’ve managed to upset _her._

He feels especially bad because he wasn’t lying when he told Noctis he owes her everything. He would just be a chubby nobody from a bad part of town, probably working late shifts at a shitty diner just to put food on the table, if it weren’t for Luna’s letter.

He thinks about how beautiful she looked at their engagement party—how regal and _happy_ and how Prompto had the nerve to ruin that by crying and making Noctis run after him. 

Prompto couldn’t tell him at the time, because he didn’t want Noctis to pity him, but it wasn’t just seeing Noctis with someone else, it was seeing him with someone so much _better_ than Prompto. Someone effortlessly charming and kind who can communicate with literal gods and look like a movie star doing it.

He remembers how he used to smell the letter she mailed him, a scent of fresh flowers that never faded, like magic. He didn’t even know her age, didn’t know she was a princess (at least not at first), and yet he’d fantasized constantly about having her as a friend. Her letter had been the first truly _good_ thing to happen to him, and in a way, his dreams of their friendship was part of what got him through all those years of eating vegetables for every meal and running for hours every morning with no one but himself. He’d always had her kindness and encouragement somewhere in the back of his mind, motivating him to do better. 

So to see Luna in real life, to realize how fantastic and sweet and insanely beautiful she was, even more worthy of his adoration than he ever imagined, and knowing she was going to marry Noctis, the person he cared about most in the world...Even though he would miss having Noctis in his life, he couldn’t deny that he’d found someone better. Noctis deserves the very best, and that was never gonna be Prompto.

And now Luna is mad at Noctis and hates Prompto’s guts. He can’t believe it got this bad. Prompto has put all his effort into maintaining the relationships he’s lucky enough to have, into making sure he’s worthy of the people who are willing to keep him around, because he spent so many years of his life with no one. Fifteen years to be exact, and then he met Noctis, and his entire life changed for the better. He owes Noctis everything, and he owes Luna for bringing him to Noctis. 

He’s never had anyone be as disappointed in him as Luna was today. After a moment of shock, he and Noctis had ran after her, begging Gladio to tell him which direction she went. They’d eventually found her in Ignis’s office, only for her to run away as soon as Prompto tried to apologize. And now the room is dead silent, all three of them in shock.

“Should we, like, maybe go after her?” Prompto worries. He’s stunned that Noctis is just standing there, staring at the door while Ignis remains seated, staring at Noctis.

“I think it’s best we give Luna her space,” Ignis says calmly. “Why don’t the two of you take a seat and explain to me exactly what happened?”

Noctis does as Ignis asks, taking the seat across from his desk, but Prompto remains standing, his body too restless to sit. He expects Noctis to respond to Ignis’s question, but when he doesn’t, Prompto feels compelled to speak by the sheer intensity of Ignis’s gaze. 

“Well, Luna invited me for tea, and I’m not sure exactly what happened, but somehow Luna found out Noct and I used to date, She told us how she left her whole life to move here, and how we should’ve told her the truth before she got married...Are you _sure_ we shouldn’t go after her?” Prompto asks, looking towards the door, wondering what she’s thinking, wishing he could tell her how sorry he is. He leans down, his hands gripping the back of Ignis’s armchair to steady himself.

“She specifically requested to be left alone,” Ignis replies, “and I think it’s incumbent on us to respect her wishes under the circumstances...Now, how did this meeting come about?”

“It was Luna’s idea,” Noctis finally speaks. “She thought it would be good for me to reconnect with Prompto, because I kinda told her we had a falling out. I didn’t want her to know about us dating...It wasn’t because I didn’t trust her or anything,” he pleads. “I just didn’t want to hurt her feelings…”

Noctis is slumped in Ignis’s chair, mostly staring at his lap, and Prompto can’t imagine what Noctis must be thinking and feeling. He wishes he could give him a big hug and tell him a really lame joke that would make him laugh, but that’s not how their relationship works anymore, and Prompto has to constantly force himself to remember that.

“Would you like to sit, Prompto?” Ignis asks.

Prompto doesn’t think he can contain his nervous energy if he does, but Ignis’s unflinching calm is hard to reckon with, so he does as Ignis suggests and tries his damndest to stay still.

“Everything she said was true,” Noctis says numbly. “She always treated me like a real friend, even before we got married, and I took her for granted all this time, and now that she’s here, and we’re married...I just think...She’s right, Iggy. I should’ve told her the truth about Prompto...She said she’s _in love_ with me,” Noctis emphasizes in apparent awe.

Ignis sighs and stares at his hands. “And I must conclude that her feelings are not reciprocated?”

Prompto waits, wondering if this is the right time to excuse himself. This isn’t really his business, not anymore. Noctis is with Luna, and Prompto’s only here because he said yes to Noctis when he should’ve said no. 

“Luna’s perfect,” Noctis sighs, letting his face fall into his palms. He’s trying to hide that he’s crying, but Prompto can easily see it in the gentle rocking of his shoulders.

It’s strange to see Noctis break down like that. The closest he’s ever seen him come was the day he arrived at Prompto’s apartment to say goodbye. 

Prompto gets out of his seat, intending to comfort him, but reminds himself again that it’s not appropriate and sits. He looks to Ignis instead. Ignis always knows what to do.

Ignis takes a deep breath. “It gives me no pleasure to say what I’m about to say, but...I think perhaps it’s time we consider Prompto for another position. It’s obvious he’s too much of a temptation for you, Noctis.”

“No, please,” Noctis says, looking up, his eyes rimmed with tears. “You can’t do that to him when it’s my fault.”

“Well, I’d consider firing you instead, but I don’t think your dad would be very happy about it.”

It takes both of them a second to realize Ignis is _joking._ Prompto cracks a smile, and Noctis seems to calm somewhat.

“Sorry, Iggy. I know I’m failing at being the good prince you always taught me to be.”

“You can still turn things around,” Ignis encourages. “Luna is an amazing partner. I think we can both agree she’s stepped up to her duties with grace and purpose—“

“Unlike me,” Noctis mumbles. It’s self-deprecating, not accusatory, and Ignis looks like he wants to give Noctis a hug too, but he stays behind his desk and continues.

“Well, she _is_ four years older than you and therefore more experienced. In addition to that, she lived a difficult life under Niflheim rule and was forced to grow up faster than most. Noctis, don’t forget that you have all the makings of an incredible prince and king. I have no doubts about your ability to rule. What I _do_ doubt is your ability to keep Luna happy, and that I can’t have. She’s your wife and our future queen. It’s time to start focusing your attention on improving your relationship, because a solid partnership is integral to your success as a leader and the future of Lucis.”

“Okay,” Noctis nods.

“Now, regarding Prompto. I won’t _fire him,_ as you so dramatically suggested,” Ignis says, giving Prompto a wry smile, “but rather find an alternate post for him. As much as I respect you and your dedication to the Crownsguard, Prompto, until Noctis has proven he can prioritize his marriage, I think even a friendship with you is a distraction.”

“I understand,” Prompto says, noting the way Noctis’s eyes shift to him, worrying. “It’s totally cool, Noct. I really don’t mind.”

“Thank you, Prompto,” Ignis replies. “Your understanding is greatly appreciated. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to his highness alone.”

“Course,” Prompto says, standing up. “Thanks, Iggy. And Noct...I hope you’re able to work everything out with Luna. Just...don’t worry about me, kay? ‘Cause I’m totally fine. I just want you guys to be happy.”

Noctis gives him a long look, and Prompto’s left wondering what Noctis _would’ve_ said if Ignis weren’t there as he closes the door behind him.

Prompto really _is_ fine though. Okay, _maybe_ his apartment feels a little empty and maybe he cries sometimes because he’s lonely and maybe he’s afraid no one will love him as much as Noctis did, but in spite of all of that, he’s happy for Noct and Luna, and he’s just lucky to have a good job. All things considered, he’s been worse off before. He remembers times when his parents were gone for weeks on end, and he’d eat everything in the house until he felt sick, and he’d sit and watch TV and hate himself. Then he’d go to school and be bullied and laughed at, and he was always sure he’d never amount to anything.

And now he’s on the _Crownsguard,_ and he doesn’t have a lot of money, but he’s got more than he ever had before, and he has friends at the Citadel. Maybe no one he’s as close to as Noct, but still, he has people who care about him. Gladio and Ignis are great friends even if they don’t always have time to hang out.

And yes, he knows he’ll never love anyone as much as he loves Noctis, but he always knew that would be the case. He accepted that when he went way above his social station and asked Noctis to be his friend, knowing the prince was charming and sweet and unfairly handsome. Even though he told Noctis that his crush snuck up on him, it didn’t. He’s had a crush on Noctis for as long as he can remember, before he even knew what the feeling meant. 

“Hey.”

He hadn’t even noticed Gladio was outside Ignis’s office.

“Oh, hey Gladio.”

“You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Prompto sighs. “Yeah, I’m alright. Looks like I’m not gonna be on Crownsguard anymore, at least not for a while. After what happened with Luna—“

“Hey, you _know_ that wasn’t your fault, right? That’s all on Noctis for not telling her things he absolutely should’ve told her.”

“Yeah, but—“

“I’m serious. I don’t even think Luna blames you. She was just upset with him and took it out on you. What’s the deal with you and Luna anyway?”

“What?” Prompto asks, feeling his pulse race, wondering how much Gladio knows.

“I mean, she said you lied to her about being in a relationship with Noctis, but I’m around Noct all the time, and I’ve never even seen you and Luna talk.”

“Oh, well, there was this one time she was having a rough night, and she found me when I was at my post, and we, um, talked a little bit.”

“Oh, okay.”

Prompto inwardly sighs with relief. He tries not to think about the events of that night too much, the feelings it awakened that he’s yet to contend with, and he definitely doesn’t want to discuss them with Gladio.

“So, um, do you know where Luna is? I still wanna apologize and make sure she’s okay.”

“You don’t have to do that. Noct should be the one apologizing for the way he treats her.”

That takes Prompto by surprise. “You think he doesn’t treat her well?”

“I’ll put it this way—he could treat her a lot better. She’s trying so hard, and he’s just...you know, being _Noct.”_

“Heh, guess I know what you mean,” Prompto says, even though he totally doesn’t. As far as he’s concerned, Noctis is a total sweetheart, so it’s hard to imagine him treating Luna less than perfectly. “So, uh, where is she again?”

“I’m not supposed to tell.”

“Oh, right. Well, guess I should finish out my shift anyway…”

Prompto is thankful he’s working the day shift in a place where there’s actually people around to distract him from his racing thoughts. After what feels like hours (but is really only one), Crowe finally comes to relieve him. 

“Anything I need to know about?” she asks.

It takes him a second to realize she’s just asking about his post and not the worries rushing through his head. 

“Nah, nothing happening here. It’s been quiet.”

“Cor already told me about Luna’s new room. West wing, right?”

“Oh really? He didn’t mention…”

“He didn’t mention that the Princess was in a new location? Seems like kind of an important thing to know.”

Prompto makes some excuse, his mind already reeling, debating what he should and shouldn’t do with that information. 

He waits until Crowe is settled before he steps out of sight. He _could_ just go home and let it be. If Gladio’s right, Luna’s not _really_ mad at him, and it’s probably best he gets out of Noct and Luna’s business anyway, like Ignis suggested.

 _But,_ since Ignis _is_ finding him a new job, he may never see Luna again, at least not for a long time, and he definitely won’t have a chance to be alone with her. He might never get the opportunity to apologize face-to-face or really, truly thank Luna for everything she’s done for him. 

His mind is made up. He’s not sure what he’s going to say, but he has to say something. He makes his way towards the west wing, hoping she’s still there, worrying, despite Gladio’s reassurances, that she’s about to fire him herself, before Ignis even has the chance to find him a new post.

The second he finds her door and knocks, he’s tempted to run. It takes all his self-restraint to wait, to listen to the sound of slow footsteps approaching and hear the door open, observe the pale face that’s looking back at him. Luna seems tired but defensive, yet after staring at him for just a moment, her facade crumbles.

“I’m surprised to see you. I thought it would be Noctis.”

“Oh,” Prompto says. “Well, he wanted to see you too, but Iggy— _Ignis,_ wanted to talk to him for a bit.”

Luna’s eyes look distant. Prompto’s concerned, but he doesn’t think it’s his place to ask how she’s doing. He’s gotta make his apology and be gone by the time Noctis comes looking for her.

“I just came to say I’m really sorry for not telling you about me and Noct. I hope you can forgive me.”

When he has the nerve to look at her face, Luna’s expression seems surprisingly soft. “Would you like to come in?”

He stares at her in disbelief for what’s probably too long. He knows he should make an excuse. A man alone with the princess in her private quarters is a bad idea and just the kind of thing that could get Prompto in trouble for the second time today, but he sees the way her face drops the longer it takes him to reply, and he notices she’s got beautiful, blue eyes just like Noct’s, pleading, _needing him._ “Of course, Luna. I’d love to.”

He follows her down a hallway with doors on either side. One leads to a bathroom, another to a bedroom. Prompto sees the door is ajar, the bed unmade, and quickly looks away, feeling like it’s wrong for him to see.

They arrive in the living room where the curtains are all drawn, the only light illuminating the room from the spaces the curtains don’t reach, along with a single table lamp. It feels sad and oppressive, the very opposite of Luna’s usual brightness and light. 

He notices a curled-up blanket on an armchair, an open bottle of red wine that’s half-gone, and an empty glass next to it. Pryna sits by Luna’s feet and occasionally looks up at Prompto dolefully.

When he makes eye contact with Luna, she blushes. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have invited you.”

“It’s okay.”

“Please take a seat.”

Prompto does.

“My behavior today was inexcusable,” Luna continues, “and I’m thankful to have the chance to apologize to you.”

“It’s seriously cool, Luna. I don’t blame you at all, and Noct doesn’t either—“

“You spoke to him?”

“Yeah, after you left Iggy’s office. The three of us were talking about how to make it up to you.”

She sits in the armchair adjacent to where Prompto is seated on the couch, folding her legs under herself and adjusting the blanket to cover her lap, hiding the bottom of her knee-length dress. He’s never seen her look so _normal_ or relaxed. He tries not to think too hard about how intimate it feels as he continues.

“And, um, I’m not going to be on the Crownsguard anymore. Iggy’s gonna find me a new job, so you don’t have to worry about running into me or Noct and I seeing each other.”

“Oh no, I can’t allow that to happen on my account. My issues lie with Noctis alone, and it’s unfair for you to suffer the consequences.”

“Well, to be honest, I really don’t mind. I mean, I’d just be a poor nobody from the sticks of Insomnia if you hadn’t sent me that letter, so changing jobs is no big deal, especially if it’ll make your life easier.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Prompto feels himself blushing. “Thanks, Luna, but it’s true. If I hadn’t found Tiny, I never would’ve lost weight or become Noct’s friend or Iggy’s or Gladio’s, and I definitely wouldn’t have made it onto the Crownsguard.”

“But you forget that it was _you_ who helped Pryna in the first place. If you hadn’t done something so kind and selfless, I never would’ve had cause to write to you.” Her tone is warm, but Prompto still feels bad, like he’s getting off too easy when he saw how upset she was just hours ago.

“Yeah, well, if you hadn’t written me that letter, then Noctis and I would’ve never dated and maybe you two would be happy together.” It hurts to admit it, but he knows it’s true. Prompto is the reason their marriage is having trouble.

There’s a pause. “I’ve been thinking about that all afternoon. I was so upset earlier, because I felt like Noctis betrayed my trust, but I realized...I believe everything happens for a reason. Who am I to say that Noctis and I shouldn’t have wed? That you and he shouldn’t have fallen in love? Those decisions aren’t mine to make. It’s the will of the gods that decide our fates.”

“So they, like, the gods talked to you about me and Noct?” Prompto asks, incredulous at Luna’s amazing powers. It’s easy forget she’s a literal Oracle because even though she looks like a goddess, she acts like a regular person.

Even so, he _knows_ he said something stupid from the way she grins at him. Of course, instead of making him feel like an idiot for not paying attention in his high school divinity classes, she patiently replies, “Not explicitly, but they dictate our lives all the same.”

Prompto doesn’t know about the gods, but he certainly believes in Luna. Even after all she’s been through today, she’s still calm and patient and humble enough to think of her life in godly terms. It’s really admirable, and Prompto is at a loss for words.

“Please excuse my musings,” she says, standing up. “Can I interest you in a glass of wine?”

“Nah, that’s okay, Luna. Really, I’m good. Probably should be heading home soon anyway…”

It seems like the right thing to do. Luna forgave him, and it seems like she’ll forgive Noct too. Prompto has no place here anymore.

“Please stay,” she urges, then, probably seeing Prompto’s hesitation, she adds, “I’d like to get to know you better, since you’re so important to Noctis.”

Prompto isn’t sure what to do. It’s still probably not a good idea for him to be alone with Luna, let alone share a drink with her when he’s a total lightweight. His mind suddenly flashes back to that night she met him in a darkened hallway, the shock of his hand on Luna’s waist. He feels his face grow warm from the memory. 

“Unless you have plans?” Luna asks.

Her expression is so sweet and uncertain.

“Yeah, I can stay.”

“Wine?”

“Ehh, I’m okay, thanks.”

“It’s no fun drinking alone,” she coaxes him with a smile. 

“Sure, uh, sure. I’ll have some wine. Thanks.”

She grabs a glass from the kitchenette, setting it down on the coffee table before apologizing for how dark it is in the room and opening a few of the curtains.

She sits again, and Prompto notices how perfect her posture is as she places her glass next to his and pours two extremely generous servings of wine, nearly finishing off the bottle. 

Prompto scrambles up to get his so she doesn’t have to stand up to bring it to him like a servant, but when he does, he bumps her arm. Some of the wine spills on his uniform, which is no big deal since it’s black anyway, but then he notices that some of it has _also_ spilled on her very white dress.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Luna! Oh my gosh, did I ruin it?”

He tries to think of a way to help, but the stain is in an inappropriate place where he shouldn’t even really be looking, let alone touching, and he doesn’t know what to do.

“It’s alright,” she says with a reassuring smile. “I’ll bet there’s someone on the housekeeping staff who can get out the stain if I can’t. But I should at least try to dilute it.” He watches her go to the kitchenette sink and return with a wet a towel, dabbing at the stain, the circle of wetness widening until he realizes he can see her bra through the fabric.

He looks away and tries to think of anything else.

“Apologies,” Luna says as she wraps her entire body in the blanket, looking like an angel in a fluffy, white cocoon. “I would change clothes, but my things haven’t been brought over yet. They’re all in our old room.”

“Oh,” Prompto says, “Well, it’s no big deal. I don’t care how you look—I mean, not in a rude way. Like, you always look amazing. Hah. I’m sure you know that.”

And now he had to go and make things _more_ awkward on top of everything else. He wishes he had the same ability as Luna, to speak with intention and not embarrass himself. Mercifully, she lets the moment pass without comment or judgement.

“Tell me, what was it like growing up with Noctis?”

Prompto isn’t sure if she _really_ wants to hear about their relationship or if she’s just being polite, so he settles on something bland.

“Oh! Uh, it was a lot of fun. We played a lot of video games and stuff. He’s always been fun to hang out with.”

“Noct does seem to be very interested in games. He’s gotten me invested in King’s Knight.”

Prompto smiles. “Yeah, sounds like Noct. We used to play a lot.”

“You don’t still?” 

“Well, it’s not as much fun playing it without him.”

“You’re not still friends on the app?”

“No, we...after the engagement was announced we cut ties with each other,” Prompto says, trying not to make Luna feel bad for him, even though he know he sounds pitiful whenever he talks about it. It still feels so fresh and painful losing Noctis, even though he tries not to let it show.

He takes a sip of wine and feels a pleasant warmth pulse through him. Prompto doesn’t drink much, and he skipped his lunch break entirely, so it’s really a bad idea for him to drink at all, especially so early in the day (alone with a princess). Yet Luna seems to have no such qualms. Her glass is nearing empty as she sets it down and observes him. 

“That must’ve been very hard for you, breaking up so suddenly after four years together,” she says.

“It was, but honestly, I knew it was coming. There was no way Noct and I were ever gonna end up together. If it wasn’t you, he would’ve had to marry someone else. And I’m glad it was you. You’re perfect for him.”

She frowns. “Allow me to ask, though it’s rather personal...if things were different, would you have wanted to marry him?”

Prompto hopes he can disguise the real answer with his next sip of wine. “No, I think he deserves someone better than me. I love Noct, but I’m not royalty. I’m not well-spoken. I don’t understand politics, and I was terrible in school. I think it was kind of a fluke that he ever liked me at all.”

Prompto knows how horrified Noctis would be to hear everything he just said, but it still feels good to admit it, to hear the reasons out loud instead of constantly repeating them in his head.

“I don’t believe that for a second. You’re quite appealing, Prompto, perhaps more than you know.”

Prompto has no clue what to say, especially with the way she’s looking at him. 

“Hah, gee, thanks, Luna. That’s nice of you to say,” he says, scratching the back of his neck in discomfort.

“I genuinely mean it. You’re very sweet and innocent. A lot like Noctis, actually.”

“Oh, thanks. Noct is great.”

“Yes, well, I wish I didn’t love him quite so much,” she admits softly. “It’s terrible to love someone who doesn’t love you back.”

She looks like she’s going to cry, and Prompto has no idea how to make it better, but he has to try. 

“He loves you, Luna. I promise. He just might not know it yet.”

“He told me he’s gay. You know that, right?”

Prompto panics. He doesn’t know what to say about Noctis’s sexuality. It’s not something they’ve directly discussed, but it’s true that he’s never once heard Noctis talk about a woman, though, to be fair, Noctis rarely talked about other men either. The truth is, Prompto doesn’t know, and he feels like he should, but he has to make her feel better, so he says the first comforting thing that comes to mind. 

“Well, he’s only been with me, right? So maybe he just thinks that because he doesn’t have any other experiences.”

He’s not prepared for Luna’s next question, not at all.

“Do you consider yourself gay as well?”

He doesn’t know what she wants to hear, so he goes for the truth as best as he can tell it, but his nerves make the words come out too fast.

“Um, no, not entirely. I mean, I like everyone.”

“And have you ever been with a woman?”

“Uh, no.”

“Then how do you know you like women?”

Prompto has absolutely zero idea how to answer that. Options flit through his mind, each worse than the last. _I’ve had some serious crushes._ _I’ve watched a lot porn. I find you extremely attractive._

“I’m sorry, Prompto, to put you on the spot like that. It was inappropriate. I only meant to prove a point, that you know you like women despite having never been with one.”

Prompto takes a deep breath and another sip of wine before he speaks. “To be honest, I think Noctis isn’t giving you a chance because he’s still hung up on me—even though I don’t understand why when you’re literally perfect...but-but yeah. I think it’ll just take time, and now that I’m going to take myself out of the picture, I think it’ll all fall into place. You’ll see.”

She’s about to reply when there’s a knock on the door, followed by Noctis’s voice, soft and gentle. “Hey Luna, it’s me. If you don’t wanna talk yet, I understand, but figured I’d try…I just want to say I’m really sorry.”

Prompto has trouble reading Luna’s expression, but she seems upset, and Prompto feels compelled to speak. He thinks he can be honest with her after the intimate conversation they’ve just had.

“Hey, um, I know Noct should’ve told you about us, but please go easy on him. I promise he never meant to hurt you. He’s a really good person at heart.”

When she doesn’t respond or even move, Prompto adds, “Well, guess I should be going so the two of you can talk…”

His words break her trance. She stands on shaky feet. “Just give me a minute, please.”

Prompto really wishes he could just leave, but he doesn’t want to upset her. He knows once Noctis finds out he’s here, he’s going to act differently. He looks longingly towards the balcony, wondering if it’s possible to escape that way, kinda wanting to just fling himself off of it, when he hears the door open, followed by the sound of Noctis’s voice.

“Luna. Thanks for seeing me. I...listen, Luna...I’ve been talking it all over with Iggy, and I’m gonna be a better husband to you, I promise. I’ll be honest with you from now on, and...the truth is, yes, I’ve been missing Prompto. It’s been hard for me to get over him, and I know that’s not fair to you, but Ignis is going to get him another job, so you don’t have to worry about us. I hope you don’t blame Prompto for any of this. He’s been on your side this whole time. It’s me who’s been messing things up. It’s my fault you didn’t feel welcome, but from now on I’ll do whatever you need to be happy, Luna. I’m so sorry.”

There’s a long pause where Prompto wonders what’s happening before Noctis speaks again.

“There’s one more thing I wanted to say...if you want to try for a baby, I’m ready. We can start whenever you want. Tonight even, right now. I’m gonna do everything I can, Luna. I promise.”

Prompto doesn’t like how his insides twist at the words, crying out against the thought of them together, even though this is exactly what Prompto wanted, for them to be happy. It’s good news. It’s perfect, but he feels it in the pit of his stomach, the reality that when Noctis truly falls for Luna, Prompto will be forgotten. And that’s as it should be. But it still hurts.

“I should’ve mentioned that Prompto’s here,” Luna says. “He came by to apologize, and we’ve been talking.”

“Oh.”

Prompto takes that as his cue to go, and he wants to leave anyway, before he breaks down and either of them find out what he’s really thinking—that he’s about to cry, because losing Noctis is bad enough, but now he’s going to lose Luna too, and that leaves no one left. 

But he’s okay. It’s okay. He’s just lucky they ever befriended him at all.

He’s got to get out quick though, before his emotions overwhelm him. He walks down the hall with purpose and doesn’t look at their faces until he realizes the hallway is narrow, and he’ll have to squeeze past them to get out.

“Are you alright, Prompto?” Luna asks.

“Yup, just gonna go now, so you guys can...I’m really happy for both of you,” he says, trying to make his way towards the door.

He’s shocked when he feels Luna’s arms wrap around his shoulders. She pulls him into a tight hug. “Thank you for making me feel better today. You’re not going to leave the Crownsguard. I’ll make sure of it.”

The way she’s speaking so softly in his ear is calming, and he feels himself relax. Luna still cares about him. He didn’t realize how much he needed to hear that, to be reassured that even though they may never speak again, she still wants the best for him.

The calm is gone the instant she goes in for a kiss. It’s meant to be a kiss on the cheek, he’s sure of it, but, maybe because of the wine, it lands right on the corner of his lip and lingers for a moment too long. 

If Luna realizes how oddly intimate it is, she doesn’t show it. She backs away and smiles at him fondly. “Thanks for everything.”

He looks at Noctis who appears equally shocked. Prompto has to look away, his face burning red, and when he looks back, Noctis’s eyes are narrowed, like he’s thinking, like realization is dawning, a realization Prompto doesn’t want him to make.

“I’ll see ya later,” Prompto says, awkwardly working his way between them so he can make his exit. Without another word, he shuts the door behind him. 

Prompto practically runs down the hallway, like he’s in trouble, and he doesn’t want to admit why.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know why 😏


	6. Prompto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter that is NSFW, and most chapters after this will not be SFW, just so you know! I am planning on at least 9 chapters at present, but this fic is already longer than planned, so who knows?!

Prompto escapes down the hall and into the elevator. His mind is a blur of emotions that he mostly tries to ignore. It’s a relief when he finds himself on the open streets of Insomnia. It’s dusk. Traffic is loud, the streets are crowded. It’s exactly what he needs, to ground himself and remember life exists outside the walls of the Citadel. There are thousands of people with normal worries that don’t revolve around princes and princesses. 

He remembers the suspicion he saw on Noctis’s face obsessively as his feet guide him towards the bus stop. He wants to apologize, but what could he even say? How can he explain that he loves Noctis more than anyone on Eos, but Luna...

It’s best to just ignore it. He’s loyal to _both_ of them, and that’s why he needs to stay away. Simple as that. 

He pulls out his phone to text Ignis, to tell him that no matter what Luna or Noct say, he wants to be taken off the Crownsguard. Ignis quickly responds back: _I couldn’t agree more. I’ve already found a position for you in the Historical Records Department._

That sounds boring as hell, but Prompto’s used to boring, and, best of all, boring is _safe._ Prompto can do boring, as long as it keeps him out of trouble.

  
  


* * *

It does. Scanning through piles of old documents and organizing them into digital folders is mind-numbing in the best possible way. Prompto can get lost in it, and when his mind strays, he takes the files of “classified” documents (documents composed of 99% super boring stuff, much to his eternal disappointment) and moves them to the shredder, appreciating the small spectacle of destruction.

Okay, maybe it’s _objectively_ kind of a lame job, but Ignis made sure he kept his Crownsguard salary, which was really nice of him, and this job is much less stressful. Prompto still keeps in shape in case he’s needed to fill a Crownsguard shift, but he secretly hopes they never call on him. At this point, he would be terrified to see Noctis or Luna again. He doesn’t want to know what Noctis suspects or what Luna meant by the brush of her lips.

Prompto takes the elevator up from the basement, walking the couple blocks to the little Italian cafe where he’s meeting Gladio for lunch.

If Prompto had picked the place, he would’ve picked anywhere but here, but it was so nice of Gladio to ask him out, Prompto couldn’t tell him _no_ just because he went here with Noctis _once_. Besides, he knows it’s time to work through his feelings, to pick apart the memories until they’re just memories, instead of the painful and ever-present reminders of what he lost.

But he can’t help it. As soon as the restaurant is in view, it all comes flooding back…

Noctis is sitting a foot away from Prompto in a semi-circle booth that they have all to themselves. He’s wearing a black button-up shirt with the skull-print bow tie Prompto bought him. It makes him look like a punk kid’s (aka Prompto’s) wet dream. His cheeks are red from the wine as his fingers delicately stroke the stem of his glass. He glances up at Prompto, his smile growing wide as he places a hand on Prompto’s knee, slowly moving _up,_ never losing eye contact. He’s already turning Prompto into a blushing mess, looking that good and acting that naughty, and they haven’t even gotten their mozzarella sticks yet. 

It doesn’t help that everyone always stares when Prompto’s out with the Crown Prince of Lucis. They have to be careful, to give off the impression that they’re “just friends.” Ignis is firm on that point. The prince being in a romantic relationship with a man, let alone a nobody like Prompto, is a scandal waiting to happen. They reserved a booth off to the side, more private than the others, but people still find a reason to walk by their table just to gawk. There’s also Gladio to contend with. He’s sitting at a table alone by the window with a pile of breadsticks and his book, but he glances up every few seconds to scan the street and keep an eye on Noctis.

Prompto knows what everyone in the restaurant is thinking. How the fuck did Prompto, with his ruddy complexion, lack of social skills, and general incompetence, manage to befriend, let alone seduce, a prince? It’s the same question he asks himself every day.

Noctis stops just before he reaches Prompto’s groin, but the damage is done. Prompto’s already half-hard (okay, maybe fully hard) from the attention. Noctis smirks as he hands Prompto his phone with the hand that isn’t still on his leg (and dangerously close to his erection). Prompto almost chucks it across the table when he sees the image, a selfie of Noctis on his knees. He’s wearing nothing but a black leather thong and little clamps on his nipples, connected together by a metal chain. His eyes aren’t visible, just his luxurious mouth, biting the chain with his teeth. It’s the most beautifully erotic image Prompto has ever seen, and he knows how to pose a good nude. He’s pretty much perfected the art for Noctis, but Noctis doesn’t often return the favor, (and for good reason, because Ignis would kill him). That must be why Noctis’s smile is so exceptionally naughty when Prompto can finally bring himself to look away.

“Noct!” he gasps in shock even though he can’t help but smile.

Noctis smirks at him, takes a long sip of his wine, his eyes trained on Prompto. “Just thought you’d wanna see what I have planned for after dinner…”

Just then the waiter arrives to refill their water glasses, and Prompto’s voice reverts to an immensely embarrassing, high-pitched squeak. Noctis just smiles his direction and removes the warmth of the hand in his lap like nothing happened, and then another waiter arrives with the mozzarella sticks. Even though the moment is over, Noctis still maintains the little self-satisfied smile on his lips—

“Prompto!” Gladio calls, waving at him from a table on the outdoor patio.

 _Shit._ Prompto can’t keep doing this to himself. He tries to erase it from his mind as he sits across from his friend, Gladio’s broad smile making him feel better than he has in weeks.

“It’s great to see you, Big Guy,” Prompto says

“Right back atcha, Blondie,” Gladio smiles. “So, tell it to me straight. No bullshit. How have you been?”

“Um...well, I’m _good.”_

Gladio stares at him, incredulous. “You know you don’t have to keep up that act around me? Tell me how you’re _really_ doing. That’s why I invited you here. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Prompto should’ve known Gladio would call him out like that. Unlike Noctis and Ignis, Gladio never lets Prompto get away with his white lies. 

“Guess I’m a little lonely sometimes,” Prompto admits. 

“You can always text or call me, or even come over _whenever_ you want, okay? I’m lonely most of the time too.”

“Really? Always seems like you’re dating someone new, or going to parties...”

“That’s just social media,” he shrugs, picking up a breadstick. “Most nights I come home, eat Cup Noodles, and read until I fall asleep.”

“Oh, that’s kinda sad,” Prompto muses. “Oh sorry! I didn’t mean...I just meant, that seems like something _I_ would do, and _I’m_ kinda pathetic.”

“It’s fine, Blondie. I ain’t offended.”

“Okay. Okay. Good,” Prompto sighs, relieved. He’s always been able to count on Gladio to not take his blabbering seriously.

“So...You on any dating sites?” Gladio raises a brow.

“Mmm, nope,” Prompto evades, already nervous about where Gladio’s going.

“Why not?”

“Because I just broke up with Noctis, and...” He can tell Gladio’s expecting more from him, but that’s really all there is to it. He knows no one can replace Noctis, so it honestly seems kinda pointless to try. “I mean, guess I will _eventually…”_

“I know a few apps you could try.”

“Uh, no, I’m good, thanks.”

Gladio rolls his eyes and lifts Prompto’s phone off the table. “Passcode?”

Prompto blushes and says quietly (because there’s no use resisting Gladio when his mind’s made up), “Sixty-nine, sixty-nine.” To Gladio’a amused look, he adds, “It was Noct’s idea! He has the same passcode—we did it when we were like 16. _Please_ don’t tell him I told you!”

Gladio chuckles. “Look, I don’t wanna know anything about your sex life. I’m just gonna download a couple apps for you. You’re bi, right?” he asks, as he taps through Prompto’s phone.

“Uh, yup,” he admits. “Surprised you know that.”

“ _Please,”_ he says, “it’s obvious.”

Prompto doesn’t even wanna know how he knows. “Why do you need to know anyway?”

“I’m setting up your dating profile.”

“Gladio,” he pleads, helplessly reaching for his phone, as Gladio pulls it out of reach.

“Nuh-uh,” Gladio chides, “I can’t watch you pine over Noctis forever. It’s too pathetic. He’s married. Sucks for you, but we can’t change it. Just gotta move forward,” he finishes with a reproachful look, handing the phone back to Prompto. 

“So basically,” Gladio explains, “all you do is swipe right for yes and left for no. If you get a match with someone, you can message them. It’s that simple. It’s great for hook-ups, dating, whatever you wanna do.”

Prompto feels overwhelmed already. He’s just going to close out of the app, but his finger slips, and a sound emanates from his speaker, the screen filling with a notification that he’s made a match.

“Already?! Let me see,” Gladio says, stealing his phone again. “She’s hot, wow. Lives out in Hammerhead. Kinda far, but you could make it work. _She’s a mechanic?!_ Wow. How have I not seen her before? I thought I’d seen every profile in the by now. Maybe she’s new.”

Prompto freaks out when he sees Gladio typing. 

“What the hell, dude!”

“I’m just sending her a quick message to say hey, tell her you’re interested,” Gladio smirks.

“But-but, I’m not! It was an accident!”

“You’re really tryna tell me you don’t think this girl is hot?” Gladio says, flipping the phone back so Prompto can get a better eyeful of a gorgeous blonde with legs for days. Prompto feels his face flush. He can’t disagree with that, but it still feels wrong somehow.

Gladio looks up and finally realizes Prompto’s discomfort. “Prompto, you _know_ I’m only doing this ‘cause I care, right? I hate to see you all sad and lonely all the time. Maybe a date would help, even if it’s nothing serious.”

“It’s not fair to whoever I’d date though,” Prompto admits. “‘Cause I’m still totally in love with Noctis.”

“I know,” Gladio sighs. “Just...try it. If it sucks, it sucks, and you can come to my house and bitch at me about minding my own business. Seem fair?”

“Yeah,” Prompto grins, taking a bite of his breadstick. “So, uh, how are Luna and Noctis doing?”

Gladio pauses and looks away before he says a quick, “They’re fine. Don’t worry about Noct, kay? He has me and Iggy. We’ll make sure he’s alright.”

“Sure,” Prompto agrees. 

But when he walks inside to go to the bathroom later, he sees the booth where he sat with Noctis over a year ago and _aches._

* * *

At the end of his shift, he hops onto the bus, feeling lucky that there’s an empty seat so he can use his phone. There’s an unfamiliar icon on the Home Screen, and he realizes it must be from the new app: _New Message from Cindy._

Oh no. He doesn’t even know what crazy flirtatious stuff Gladio could’ve said. He’s tempted to not reply, but he knows he’ll feel really guilty if he doesn’t, so he clicks the notification and it opens into a chat window. 

He reads Gladio’s message to her: _Hey gorgeous. I’m interested._

Even that short message is about a thousand times more direct and forward than Prompto would ever be. He’s amazed she even responded to that. Is it really that easy?

_Hey sugar, you don’t look too bad yourself ;)_

He finds the profile Gladio made for him and glances through the photos. Gladio didn’t do half-bad with his selections, but Prompto’s still amazed someone that hot would think _he’s_ cute.

He flips back to her profile just to be sure what he saw earlier was real. She’s got on the shortest denim shorts he’s ever seen, and she’s standing next to a fancy car with a tool belt around her waist. She’s wearing what looks like a bikini top underneath her short-sleeved yellow vest, and the only word Prompto can think of to describe her is _sexy_. He slips to her next photo and sees her face, freckled with a little smudge of oil on her cheek, a cute button nose and deep, green eyes. _Cute._ She’s sexy and cute and _cool_ because she knows things about cars. Meanwhile, Prompto doesn’t even have his license. 

Maybe he’s being catfished. That would make the most sense, because women in real life are never interested in him. That’s why it was so easy to ignore his attraction to them when he was with Noctis. Noctis was his everything, and Noctis was enough.

But Gladio is right. He doesn’t have Noctis anymore, and he won’t have him again, maybe not even as a friend, not after whatever happened with Luna. He knew that it couldn’t last from the very beginning, when he let Noctis kiss him behind the school gym, his hero coming to rescue him after his date stood him up. Noctis had turned one of the worst nights of his life into the very best.

Prompto can’t indulge his memories any longer though. A really beautiful woman just told him he was attractive. He should respond. It would be rude not to.

 _What’s it like in Hammerhead?_ Prompto types. _Never been._

It’s kinda lame, considering Gladio made him sound all smooth and confident, but if he’s going to give this a try, he has to be himself, right?

Her response comes quickly. _I like it here. The only problem is that I like city boys ;)_

Oh no. She thinks he’s a “city boy,” when in reality Prompto is just about as unsophisticated as it gets. He thinks about saying something to that effect when she sends another text.

_Wanna come visit me in Hammerhead? I’m free tonight ;)_

Tonight?! He goes back to look at the profile Gladio made him and scans his bio. _Looking for dates or just a quick hookup._

Prompto literally facepalms. Why did Gladio have to do this to him? Prompto doesn’t _actually_ want a quick hook-up…

Does he? 

No. He’s never even _been_ with a woman. He wouldn’t know what to do. That is, if Cindy’s even proposing they hook up. Prompto has no clue, but either way, it won’t work.

He quickly types back. _Sorry, no car :(_

_Hit me up if you’re ever in town 😘 Have a good night, sweetie._

Prompto thinks vaguely about taking a bus to Hammerhead just to prove a point, to show himself (and Gladio) that he’s trying to move on. It would be so unlike him, impulsive and spontaneous, but it still _feels_ wrong, because in every sense of the word, his loyalty and his heart still belong to Noctis, in spite of the reality he’s supposed to have accepted. It’s probably pathetic, like Gladio said, but knowing Noctis still has feelings for him too, even if they can’t be together…

Or maybe that was only until Noctis saw the way he blushed when Luna kissed his cheek, before Noctis told Luna he wanted to try for a baby—that he would do everything he could to make her a happy wife, including...

Prompto unlocks his apartment door to bland, white walls and yellow lighting over the same, cheap furniture, identical to every pre-furnished apartment in his complex. He keeps telling himself he’s going to decorate, but he hasn’t had the heart yet. This place just doesn’t feel worthy of improving, because it’s not even close to feeling like home. Maybe he’s in denial, just like with Noctis, just like with Luna…

He imagines her, curled up in her blanket, smiling fondly at him.

_You’re quite appealing, Prompto, perhaps more than you know._

Prompto likes to believe that they miss him. He soothes himself by imagining Noctis begging Gladio to tell him if Prompto’s dating anyone, Luna asking Ignis how Prompto likes his new job. 

Of course, there’s the other possibility that’s much more likely. They’re focused on their marriage now. They’re having sex every night. Luna’s pregnant, and they’re going to have a family, and they aren’t thinking of him at all, and that’s okay, because…

It’s not okay. It’s not. 

Prompto crashes onto his couch and cries, succumbing to the weight of everything he’s lost. Noctis belonged to him, loved him, said he couldn't imagine being with anyone else. Luna assured him he was still a friend, shared her secrets, believed the best of him. He felt loved and useful, and now he scans documents for a living and can’t even work up the courage to take someone on a date. 

When the tears subside to numbness, he takes a deep breath. He opens his phone again and sees Cindy from Hammerhead filling his screen. He doesn’t mean to do it, but his eyes pan down her body, taking in every feature—the tan of her skin, the curve of her breasts, the length of her legs. 

_Shit. No._ Prompto is not supposed to be getting a boner right now. He’s being a creep. He won’t even put forth the effort to go on a date with Cindy, and instead he’s getting a hard-on looking at her photos. That is just all kinds of wrong.

He does need to get off though. That would probably make him feel better. It’s been too long. Maybe he needs to let his mind loose, to think about things much less complicated than his dumb life.

He goes to his bedroom, leans against his pillows and pulls out his phone. He has an idea of what video he wants to watch. It’s one he’s seen often, two guys fooling around in the back of the library. Prompto’s always secretly had a thing for voyeurism, and Noctis has always been a shameless exhibitionist.

But he shouldn’t watch something that reminds him of Noctis. That defeats the purpose.

He has another idea, a temptation he’s not sure he should indulge. The thing is, when he was dating Noctis, he tried _not_ to watch heterosexual porn. It made him feel ungrateful for the incredible thing he had, but sometimes when Noctis was away for long periods of time, he’d cave and look at pictures, jack off to pornos of beautiful women and regret it. He’d justify it later by reasoning that he’d never been more thirsty for anyone than he’d been for Noctis. He’d proven it too. Prompto had done some crazy things at Noctis’s urging—quickies in Citadel broom closets, and that one time in the arcade bathroom. 

Prompto unzips his pants and tentatively presses a hand along his length. He pictures Noctis locking the door behind them, the way he got on his knees, unzipped Prompto’s pants and pulled out his cock before Prompto could even tell what was happening, wearing that audacious smirk on his face, one eyebrow raised, asking a question that really didn’t need an answer. “Want me to blow you right now, or—?”

Of course he did. Who could say no to the Crown Prince on his knees with those intoxicating blue eyes, especially when Noctis threw off his own t-shirt and discarded it on the grimy bathroom floor just because he knew how much Prompto drooled over his muscles. And then there was the warmth of his mouth wrapped around Prompto’s cock. Prompto had to bite on a finger just to keep himself from moaning as Noctis worked Prompto down his throat, not even trying to stifle all the lewd noises he was making, making sure Prompto heard every one. And that was how Noctis liked Prompto best, flustered and compliant for him, and that was how Prompto liked Noctis, hungry and desperate with appetites only Prompto would fulfill.

 _Fuck fuck fuck._ He’s doing it again.

Prompto stubbornly clicks on the first hetero couple he sees on the homepage. It doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like. He’s so keyed up, he’s sure he could come from almost anything. He scrolls a few minutes into the video (no time for bad porno plots today) and likes what he sees.

The woman is blonde, pixie hair cut, petite build. She kinda looks like... _Bad, bad, bad._ Prompto’s going to just skip to the next recommended video, but then her shirt comes off, and she’s got the most gorgeous boobs, small but round with pert, pink nipples. Prompto watches as the man’s fingers close over one of her breasts before taking her nipple in his mouth, and Prompto doesn’t want it to stop. He watches as she slips onto her knees, and the guy's cock comes out. She takes it in her mouth, slow and sweet, like a delicacy. And when she looks up, her eyes electric blue, Prompto can only think of Luna—Luna in her white, lace bra, kissing the corner of his mouth, undressing herself so she can pleasure him, getting on her knees with her perfect boobs out. Her skin’s so soft, and Prompto can touch all of it. She frees his erection and takes it all the way down until it touches her throat, and she doesn’t stop sucking until…Prompto orgasms without conscious thought, imagining himself spilling into Luna’s perfect mouth.

He shudders when it’s all over, the last bits of pleasure, temporarily protecting his mind from the depth of his sins.

But not for long, apparently. 

It hits him with sickening force. He just fantasized about the _Princess of Lucis,_ _Noctis’s wife,_ giving him a _blowjob_. Fuck fuck _fuck._

Okay. Deep breath. It’s fine. Maybe this is good. He just needed to get it out of his system, and now it’ll be fine. He’ll see her again and feel nothing special. And Noctis...Noctis doesn’t have to know this ever happened.

The important thing is that he never does it again.

* * *

  
  


Two weeks pass. He’s been good, true to his word. He just hopes he can handle tonight. He’s been scheduled for Crownsguard duty. One night only. Ignis assured him he’d be posted near the kitchens—out of sight, out of mind. There’s no reason he’d run into Noctis or Luna there, and Ignis has purposefully hidden the fact that he’s on duty tonight from Noctis. Prompto’s ashamed that he thinks it’s a good sign, that Noct still cares enough to make Prompto’s presence relevant. Or maybe that’s just Ignis being extra careful. He convinces himself it’s the former.

Regardless, Prompto enjoys being back on the upper floors of the Citadel, watching kitchen staff pushing carts laden with unbelievable-smelling trays of meat and artfully arranged fruit, and then returning later with stacks of half-eaten plates of food piled high.

He can picture the event vividly, even if he can’t see it, because he can hear the highest crescendos of the music when the doors to the ballroom open. It’s still exciting and novel and all of the things he misses while wasting away in the basement. There’s that ineffable feeling of promise and excitement, like incredible things could happen.

He thinks about his former life, how _good_ he had it. If this event had happened a year ago, Noctis would no doubt have already snuck out to tell Prompto how bored he was and how much he hated his super uncomfortable suit, doing impressions of his least favorite nobles until he made Prompto laugh, promising he’d be back as soon as he could, assuring Prompto he couldn’t wait for it all to be over so they could cuddle together in bed.

Luna’s a better partner for him. She’s probably crushing it with all the foreign nobility, so Noctis doesn’t have to do a thing except smile and shake hands and look pretty. He probably loves it. He probably whispers jokes about his least favorite people in her ear until she can’t help but giggle and sneaks her out onto the balcony for a sip from the flask he snuck in, perhaps followed by a stolen kiss.

The night passes by so quickly while Prompto indulges in fantasies, imagining the romance unfolding, Noctis and Luna together, with alternating ecstasy and sorrow.

It’s when things are winding down, when all the guests have left, and Prompto’s feeling tired, pleased that it’s almost the end of his shift, when he hears _giggling_ coming from down the hall. It’s probably not a threat, but Prompto is trained to view any unexpected events with suspicion, so he narrows his eyes enough to make out two figures in the distance—probably drunk, if the way they’re swaying and clinging to one another is any indication. As they get closer, his stomach drops—it’s Luna in a blush pink ballgown, and Noctis in his suit. 

Prompto braces himself for the worst, watching as they get closer, Luna leaning on Noctis’s arm for support.

“Do you think he even noticed the food in his moustache?” Luna asks, a radiant smile on her face. 

“No way,” Noctis says, “Way too busy lecturing you about your purity. I died, dude. I freaking _died.”_

“How could he not know about our marriage?”

“Think he would’ve lectured anyone about anything. I was just lucky he saw you first, ‘cause I woulda given him a piece of my mind, but you were _so polite,_ ” Noctis teases with a laugh.

They pass him by without even a glance and disappear into the kitchen where Prompto knows the last of the staff are cleaning up.

He should feel relieved they didn’t notice him, right? Like, it’s totally good Noctis didn’t confront him about his feelings for Luna, and Luna didn’t ask why he insisted on being moved to the basement even though she wanted him to stay on Crownsguard? It’s great that he doesn’t have to answer those questions. 

But he also wonders why he feels like his heart is ripping, like his stomach is mush and he can’t think straight and why he totally wants to cry.

The second he sees the light of the kitchen doors swinging open, he brushes at his tears and stares straight ahead, just hoping they leave before he does something stupid. He wants to escape to his own private pity party at home where he can have a drink and cry some more.

And then he hears the nickname only one person uses for him, and it instantly relieves the ache in his chest, makes all the fear wash out of him.

_“Prom?”_

Noctis approaches him cautiously, almost reverently, like he’s some kind of rare animal. 

“Hey,” Prompto finally answers, weakly. _Real smooth._ And then he just stares at Noctis like an idiot. Noctis in his formal, pinstripe suit with two rows of buttons, Prompto’s favorite. His expression is mild, his fondness obvious from the gentle look in his eyes. Prompto _missed him,_ and he had no idea how much.

He’s thinking of something he could possibly say besides _I love you_ , and then Luna herself appears through the doorway, her steps a little uneven as she makes her way towards Noctis. Her cheeks are flushed, and she looks happy at first, holding up a bottle of wine in victory until she sees who Noctis is looking at.

“Prompto,” she gasps, her eyes going wide. And then her smile grows so warm it melts his insides. “It’s lovely to see you. Are you well?”

“Oh, uh, yeah? Nah, I’m good,” he fumbles. “What—how’re you?”

Luna looks like she’s holding back a laugh as she responds, “Why don’t you join us? We’re throwing an after-party, just the two of us. Noctis wouldn’t mind, would you, darling?”

“Nope,” Noctis says softly, his eyes searching Prompto’s face hesitantly before he turns towards Luna. “If you’re sure that’s okay with you?”

“Of course,” Luna insists. “Won’t you?” 

“Oh, uh, well, I’m on duty, so I can’t—“

“Yeah, that’s right,” Noctis says, apparently sensing Prompto’s anxiety. “He can’t just leave. It’s fine“

Luna steps forward, her slender fingers gently wrapping around Prompto’s forearm, her expression sweet and urgent. “Perhaps after your shift then? We’re both so sorry for how things turned out, and I still feel responsible for the fact that you left the Crownsguard. Let us make it up to you. Please?” She holds up the bottle of wine. “I shouldn’t drink this all on my own. And besides,” she adds, “I know Noctis misses you as much as I do.”

Prompto looks to Noctis, to gauge if it’s all true, if Noctis really wants this, except Noctis isn’t looking at Prompto. He’s looking at the way Luna’s clasping his arm, and Prompto wishes he could sink through the floor, all the way down to the records department.

“You really won’t?” Luna asks softly, her brow furrowing. 

Prompto looks at her helplessly. Yes, he’s hesitant, but it’s not because of Luna or Noctis. It’s because of Prompto and the feelings he can’t contain. He absolutely cannot be left alone with the prince and princess of Insomnia. Bad things are bound to happen.

“Oh Noct,” Luna pleads, turning Noctis’s direction, “Please convince him.”

Prompto observes Noctis, his eyes on the floor, his hands in his pockets, looking all sexy and moody in his black suit. It would be nice if he could look _less_ hot and mysterious and princely all the time. Also, less sad. Sometimes the sadder he looks, the more Prompto just wants to—

Mystic blue eyes finally meet his. “ _If_ you want to come hang out with us, we’d both be happy to see you, but if you don’t want to then...we’d understand.”

Prompto hesitates. There’s nothing wrong with Noctis’s invitation. The problem is what Noctis _isn’t_ saying, the way his eyes are locked on Prompto for way too long, willing out the answer he surely already knows. Luna’s eyes are the same. They both know Prompto will say yes. He always says yes. He had trouble saying no to one pair of pretty blue eyes, and he definitely can’t say no to two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please say a prayer to the astrals for Prompto. He’s gonna need it after tonight 😆
> 
> The next chapter switches to Noctis’s perspective, so you can see how our sad boi has been faring.


	7. Noctis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...excuse me for how long this took 🙈 I re-wrote this chapter so many times and was never happy with the result. The characters just did _not_ want to do what I wanted them to do! After a lot of mental wrestling, the four of us worked it out, and I hope you’re happy with the result. I’m expecting this fic to have at least three more chapters, but I’ve been wrong so often about the trajectory and length of this story that I really can’t say for sure.
> 
> Allow me to say a huge thank you to everyone who left encouraging comments and reminded me to keep working at it. Y’all are the absolute best.

Prompto said yes, which means Prompto will be in their room tonight, _alone_ with the two of them. 

Noctis has been trying to be good, to get over him, to pretend like Prompto Argentum never existed. But all it took was one look at the precious uncertainty in Prompto’s eyes to know absolutely nothing’s changed. He thinks Prompto felt it too, judging from the electric silence that fell when their eyes met.

Luna’s leaning on Noctis as they make their way back to their room, and he catches her when she nearly trips over her own dress and giggles. He smiles and locks her arm with his. The alcohol brings out the bubbly, mischievous side of her personality, the one she normally keeps tucked away in favor of diplomacy and professionalism. In essence, she’s a cute drunk, unlike Noctis, who tends to get depressed if not properly cared for. 

He can’t quite make sense of what just happened, that _Luna_ was the one who instigated it. Sure, they’ve talked about Prompto with each other, but it’s usually Luna bringing him up, expressing her guilt over the fact that he lost his position because of her, even though it was really Noctis’s fault.

He remembers how they went to Ignis together, at Luna’s insistence, to ask that Prompto be reinstated to the Crownsguard, but Ignis had looked at Noctis suspiciously and admitted that Prompto had ultimately _requested_ to be moved elsewhere. Ignis had very purposefully not said where. Of course, Noctis has pestered Gladio, but all it got him was a shaking head and a stern look.

He wonders if Ignis and Gladio suspect that Luna’s interest in Prompto goes beyond a sense of duty. He could be wrong-—he tells himself he probably _is—_ but he knows Prompto, and he knows Luna, and there _was_ something in the way Luna so sweetly smiled at Prompto before planting a kiss on his cheek, the way Prompto blushed and looked guilty as he slammed the door behind him all those nights ago. 

Noctis has never had the courage to ask what happened when they were alone together. 

In fact, he never has the courage to bring up Prompto at all. He and Luna have found a balance, a way to make things work like Ignis wanted, like Noctis knows is right, and it might not always be perfect, but it’s working. They’ve made peace.

They arrive in their joint bedroom. Luna sets down the bottle of wine and the snacks they pilfered from the kitchen before gliding towards him and wrapping her arms around his neck. She draws him into a slow and sensual kiss, a little sloppy by her usual standards, but Noctis blames himself for that. He shouldn’t have snuck a flask into an official royal function, but, truthfully, sometimes it’s impossible without it.

Her tongue slips into his mouth, and his lips part willingly, pulling her closer. This part is easy, instinctive, but there’s always going to be that familiar cloud of anxiety in his gut that disrupts what enjoyment he can take from it. The boundaries remain blurry between what he desires and what he accepts because he wants Luna to be happy. Despite his reservations, Luna has soft lips and a pleasant touch, and Noctis craves the feeling of being wanted and desired, worthy of affection, even if he can’t choose who it’s from.

The sex, the few times they’ve had it, hasn’t been as horrific as he initially imagined. It’s because of Luna—how gentle and sympathetic she is. She allows him to initiate and set the pace. She never pressures him or requests more than he offers. They’ve come to an understanding, grown more and more resolute with the passage of each day—Noctis will do what needs to be done, out of devotion to her and a desire to perform his duty, and Luna will meet the limitations of his passion with understanding. 

Tonight, the alcohol has clouded his mind just enough that he doesn’t overthink it as she takes him by the hand and guides him to their bed. He lays back on the pillows, offering a helping hand as Luna lifts herself, fluffy ball gown and all, to lay at his side. She kisses him on the cheek before resting her head on his chest, running her fingers gingerly along the rows of buttons that line his suit jacket before she speaks, “Was it presumptive of me to ask Prompto over tonight?”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Noctis says, feeling his pulse quicken in an instant, worried she’ll ask another question he isn’t prepared to answer.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“You miss him, don’t you?”

He told her he’d never lie to her after that night he first apologized, but he still can’t forget the way her face fell when she realized the depths of Noctis’s attachment to Prompto, the pain in her expression as she correctly accused him of being in love with someone else. 

“You can tell me the truth,” she coaxes, sitting up on one elbow and examining his face. Noctis returns her gaze helplessly, and Luna tries to soothe away his worries, as she so often does. “Despite what I’ve said before, it’s okay that you miss him...Perhaps the truth is, I asked him over tonight because I feel like I’ve wronged him, and you in the process, and I’d like to make amends.”

Noctis wonders what that means, if this is a trap he’s about to fall into against his better judgment. He considers asking her if she has feelings for Prompto outright, but the truth is he doesn’t want to know. The implications would be too painful, because, as reluctant as he is to admit it, there’s a strong possibility that Prompto has feelings for her too.

“Please, darling,” Luna urges. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Eh, not thinking anything,” he says, mindlessly threading his fingers through hers.

“Pushing him away won’t solve our problems, and...and, well...now that I know how much he means to you…”

His stomach twists, a noxious combination of fear, guilt, and hope. 

“I should probably change into something more comfortable, before he gets here,” Luna says quickly, as she sits up. “Would you mind helping me with my dress?”

Noctis undoes the zipper, then unclasp her bra. 

“Could’ve managed that part myself _,”_ she says, grinning at him over her shoulder.

“I thought…I mean, bras just _look_ complicated, so I thought—“

Luna chuckles before turning towards him. “It was very thoughtful of you.”

Noctis attempts a smile at her assuaging sweetness but cringes inwardly at all the things he still doesn’t know about women. He definitely spent all of sex ed passing notes to Prompto _._ Bras and periods and the needs of women’s bodies still mostly remain a mystery to him. But he’s _trying,_ because Luna seems to have no such limitations when it comes to him. 

But that’s just Luna. She’s intuitive when it comes to nearly everything from domesticity to diplomacy. She’s excellent at making speeches and discussing politics. She’s clever and well-read, and just so freaking _nice._ She’s the kind of person you can’t _not_ like, because it would make you an asshole. Noctis has never been, and will likely never be, as beloved as Luna. And that’s why he needs her. He never fully knew how badly he was failing at being royalty until he saw Luna at work.

In moments of crisis, ones where he aches for Prompto so much it hurts, he tries to remind himself that Prompto couldn’t fulfill Luna’s role, even if he nearly killed himself trying (and he would). Prompto’s brightness would dim under the anxiety and pressure—the formality, the politics, the hundreds of rules and customs he doesn’t understand. He’d be better off without that. Noctis has always loved (and envied) how free Prompto is to pick his own destiny, and no matter how much he wants Prompto for himself, he would never want to deny him that freedom, especially when Noctis craves it so desperately himself.

Of course, there’s also a nagging part of him that imagines how good Prompto _could_ be, if he put his mind to it—how satisfying it would be to watch Prompto grow assertive and confident, to walk into rooms of important people like he owned the place. To have come from nothing and impress even those who doubted him most. That would’ve been cool to see, and Prompto _would_ have done that for Noctis, willingly, if he’d only been allowed the chance.

“Oh darling, don’t worry,” Luna insists as she pushes down her dress and climbs out of it, the alcohol only removing a small quantity of her usual grace. 

She’s left in just a pair of white underwear with lace trim. Noctis is getting used to seeing her naked, but it still affects him strangely. She’s pretty, objectively speaking. Her breasts hold surprising fascination to him—not so much a sexual interest as a tactile one. Noctis likes the weight of them in his hands, the way they make nice pillows to nap on, even the way they look. Noctis tries not to betray his interest too much, worried Luna will misinterpret it as meaning more than it does. He wishes he could communicate better, that there was a way to politely say _I think you’re perfect, except for that one small part of you that you can’t change._

And that’s why he wishes Luna could be with someone who appreciates her exactly as she is, like she deserves, and it’s not lost on him that he knows someone who probably could—someone who loves unconditionally and easily. But Prompto is already set on his own path, one that leads _away_ from Noctis and Luna, and that’s as it should be.

Luna, contrary to her previously stated goal, lays at his side again, still in just her underwear, and winds her arm across his chest. He tickles his fingers down her spine and immerses himself in the scent of her perfume. She’s soft and warm and a great distraction from his wandering thoughts. The last of the alcohol they consumed over the evening is still working its way through their veins, making them sleepy and content.

But then there’s a knock on the door. 

“Oh! Prompto!” Luna says, sliding off the bed. “I’ll need to get dressed. Please send my apologies.”

Noctis stands up and straightens his suit, feeling a rush of nerves settle in his stomach. He reminds himself this was Luna’s idea, so it’s okay for him to want it as badly as he does, and his desires are mostly innocent too. He just wants to see Prompto again, to find out how he’s doing—ask about what video games he’s playing and how he likes his new apartment. Totally innocuous things that have nothing to do with the yearnings of his soul. 

He walks towards the door determined to hide the racing in his chest and prove to Luna (and himself) that she made the right choice by trusting him to see his best friend again.

When he opens the door, Prompto jumps before clutching his chest and laughing at his own nerves. “Oh my gods! So embarrassing, dude,” Prompto groans, shaking his head.

Noctis smiles like he always does when Prompto’s being especially cute. “No worries. Uh, how was your Crownsguard shift?”

“Alright. They gave me some free leftovers from the ball, so that was pretty bomb,” Prompto says, shoving his hands in his pockets, his curious gaze wandering behind Noctis, probably in search of Luna. 

“Wanna see my fancy-ass room?” Noctis asks, pleased when Prompto cracks a smile.

Noctis has to downplay their bedroom, because he knows Prompto will be intimidated by how luxurious it is. It has tall ceilings with gothic arches and walls of carved oak. There’s stained-glass windows lining one wall and priceless, ancient tapestries and oil paintings on the others. Their bed is gigantic. The mattress had to be custom made. It’s got an elaborate canopy hanging above it and a hand-woven, silk bedspread in Lucian black with the Lucis family crest sewn in gray. He notes the way Prompto blushes when his eyes pass over the bedspread, crumpled from where they were just laying.

Noctis directs him to the fireplace where there are two armchairs, one for each of them.

“Uh, nice place,” Prompto says as he sits on the edge of his chair, his posture a bit _too_ perfect. It reminds Noctis of when he first brought Prompto to the Citadel, back when they were still teenagers. Noctis had to constantly reassure him it didn’t actually matter if he used his forks in the right order, that Noctis didn’t care one bit and probably used them wrong half the time himself, but Prompto had been hard to convince. He was always worried he was doing it wrong.

“It’s okay,” Noctis replies, “Not as comfy as my old place. Speaking of, I wonder how Bubbles is doing.” Noctis is referring to the neighbor’s weird cat that would occasionally chew on Noctis’s deck chairs, but more often than not just stare at the two of them menacingly from Noctis’s balcony until they came out to feed him.

“I actually stopped by the other day with some treats,” Prompto grins. “He seemed pretty okay. Think someone else must be feeding him now.”

Noctis smiles. He’s always found it endearing the way Prompto loves animals, even freaky weird ones like Bubbles.

“Glad to hear that,” Noctis says. “I think about going back sometimes, but, uh...just haven’t had time, ya know? So, um, how’s everything with you?”

“It’s good. Yeah. You?”

“Good.”

“Luna’s good?”

“Yeah, Luna’s good. Actually, she should be out any second. She’s changing.”

“Right,” Prompto says, his hand picking at his jacket sleeve.

“So how’s your new job? Iggy wouldn’t tell me what you were doing. I tried to do some digging—“

“You mean you tried to force Gladio to tell you?”

Noctis chuckles. “Yup.”

“He mentioned that.”

It’s a relief to hear Prompto tease him again, like coming home to a comfy couch after a long day. Noctis didn’t realize how much he missed this, or how much he needed it. Prompto carries an entire life with him, one that held possibility and potential.

They both turn when they hear the bathroom door open. Luna appears in one of her long nightgowns covered by a luxurious, silk robe. Noctis remembers the first time he saw her wearing it to bed, he was confused because it looked more like an evening gown than “pajamas.” The gown dips low on her chest, with matching fur around the collar and the sleeves.

Noctis’s eyes dart to Prompto, and he observes Prompto discreetly taking in her form before looking away, a light blush coloring his cheeks. He composes himself to say a measured “Hey, Luna.”

“Hi Prompto,” she smiles. “Thank you for coming to visit us.”

Noctis stands on instinct to offer his seat to her, and Prompto quickly follows suit. Luna smiles at both of them warmly. “You are both too kind, but I’ll be perfectly fine on the floor.”

She curls her legs to her side and sits by Noctis’s chair, leaning her elbow on the cushion for support.

“How have you been?” she asks Prompto.

Prompto stares at his lap, then the fire, then the coffee table—everywhere but at Luna. “Oh, well...I’ve been mostly pretty good. I, um, definitely miss both of you. I mean, like, I understand why we should probably not see each other, but yeah, I’m cool. Allll good,” he sings before scratching his neck.

Noctis examines the fit of his Crownsguard uniform, and it brings back so many memories—all the times he made Prompto sneak off with him during official Citadel functions, even how proud he was the day Prompto was initiated onto his guard, because that meant Prompto would be bound to him forever, even if it wasn’t in the way Noctis really wanted. 

“We feel terrible about you losing your position, and I see, in retrospect, that you and Noctis never meant to harm me.”

“I appreciate that and all, but seriously, you don’t have to apologize for anything. I mean, Noct and I are, well—ask Iggy. We can be kinda dumb sometimes. I mean, sorry Noct, no offense. I _love you_ and all, but—I mean, not like _that,_ oh my gods,” Prompto says, hiding his face in his hands.

Noctis can’t help it. He laughs. “It’s cool, Prom. We’ve done some pretty dumb stuff together.”

Noctis looks to Luna, relieved when she doesn’t seem upset at the two of them reliving old memories. “I’d love to hear the stories, if you’ll indulge me,” Luna says.

“Well, one time,” Noctis says, “we bought a bunch of fireworks out in Hammerhead, the kind that are _technically_ illegal to set off inside the Wall, and, uh, we didn’t realize one of them was supposed to be lit on its side, _not_ upright, and all the fireworks shot _sideways_ instead of _up,_ and yeah, you can imagine that wasn’t good.”

“We lit a bush on fire,” Prompto adds. “We put it out though! I think I still have that shirt with the singed sleeve. Seriously though, considering the circumstances, the damage wasn’t _that_ bad. That was my favorite Founder’s Day ever, to be honest.”

“Yeah, mine too,” Noctis agrees. The silence that follows is brief but unendurable. Noctis is terrified he’ll disrupt the peace they’ve been keeping and make Luna upset. “So, Luna, did you have anything like Founder’s Day in Tenebrae?”

“We had Liberation Day, but it wasn’t celebrated much under Niflheim rule.”

Noctis should’ve guessed. It’s sad enough that Luna had to live under the thumb of Niflheim for so long, but he’s even more concerned about the way her statement must make Prompto feel. Noctis hasn’t told Luna Prompto’s secret, how he was born a magitek clone for the Niflheim army. He’s sure Luna wouldn’t care any more than he does, but Prompto tends to blame himself for everything Niflheim does, as if it were somehow an extension of himself.

“Would anyone like some wine?” Luna asks, getting on her feet. “Or perhaps something stronger?”

“Yeah, uh, sure!” Prompto says. ”I mean, if you guys are gonna have some?”

Luna stands behind the vintage liquor cart to side of the fireplace. It’s lined with crystal decanters, filled with the most expensive and rare liquors in all of Eos.

“Would you prefer something sweet? Savory?” Luna asks. “Or perhaps just wine?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Prompto insists.

Noctis should’ve expected that answer. “Something sweet would be nice,” Noctis says, knowing Prompto absolutely despises bitter drinks and only drinks wine when there’s no other choices.

Prompto offers him a quick look of gratitude, and Noctis smiles to himself as he says, “Luna’s really good at making cocktails.”

“Thank you, darling,” Luna grins, “although I’m usually more keen on a glass of wine myself. Tonight, however, we’re celebrating the reunion of two close friends, and hopefully the return of Prompto to his post.”

She hands Prompto his glass, then Noctis, before returning to retrieve her own. It’s delicious—fruity but not too sweet. There’s a moment of silence while they all take their first few sips.

Noctis’s eyes, as always, are drawn to Prompto. Astrals, he has no right to be so pretty in the glow of firelight. Noctis thinks back to Prompto’s past fear that Noctis wouldn’t like him because he was overweight. He has no idea how little Noctis cared or cares, how much everything that touches Prompto is absolutely precious to him.

“Perhaps we should play a game?” Luna suggests. The silence stretches, reminding Noctis of what a tenuous balance they’ve struck, how it feels like one wrong word could make the comfort between them come crashing down. 

“Or maybe I should just leave the two of you to catch up?” Luna offers. 

“No!” Prompto says right away. Noctis feels instantly guilty for being disappointed. “You’ve gotta stay,” Prompto continues. “We could—yeah, let’s play a game. _Oh my gods,”_ he says, turning to Noctis, “ _tell me_ you still have Pretty, Pretty Princess.”

It’s clear Prompto is feeling the alcohol already. His cheeks are flushed red, his smile bright, his nervous energy dissipating with the mention of one of their favorite board games. Noctis smiles. “I actually _did,_ believe it or not.”

Noctis makes his way to the gigantic closet at the other end of the room. It could pass as a second bedroom due to its size. This is where he left all the stuff from his apartment he’s been too lazy or depressed to move. He listens to Prompto and Luna talking as he rifles through the boxes.

“Please tell me more about the game,” Luna requests.

“So the goal is to become the Pretty, Pretty Princess by getting all the jewelry in your pawn’s color, but most importantly, the crown. Lemme tell you though, as a _real_ princess, you’ve got a definite edge on me and Noct.”

Luna laughs at that. “I certainly hope so. I’ll confess I can be rather competitive. Might I ask how you came upon such a game?”

“Joke from Gladio. He likes to refer to Noct as ‘princess,’ and he used to play the game with his sister Iris when she was little. He thought it’d be funny to get it as a birthday gift, but joke’s on him, ‘cause Noct and I love it. It’s especially fun while drinking.”

“I’m flattered you’re sharing it with me.”

“Oh no, dude. _Please_ don’t get your hopes up. I mean, it’s _fun,_ but it’s also really, really _dumb.”_

Luna’s giggle reveals she’s slowly returning to her tipsy self, and Prompto’s not far behind. Noctis finds the game, but waits to return so he can listen to them talk.

“Do you enjoy being the pretty, pretty princess?” Luna asks.

“ _No!_ Because Noct _always_ wins. It’s like the game somehow knows that he’s _real_ royalty. I don’t even get to _pretend_ to be a pretty, pretty princess!”

Luna burst out laughing, and Noctis can’t help but smile. It’s nice to hear two of his favorite people getting along so well.

Of course, there’s also that little tug in his ribcage that reminds him Prompto was once his, and he doesn’t want to share him. He bites it back as he returns with the game and sets it out on the coffee table, Prompto and Luna joining him on the floor.

“So basically, you just spin the wheel to get the number of spaces you move, and you put on whatever jewelry you land on,” Prompto explains, “but it has to match the color of your game pawn. The crown can be stolen at any time, and you need it to win, and...yup, that’s it. Like I said, it’s _dumb,_ but _awesome.”_

“Is there any strategy at all?” Luna asks, her amused smile indicating she already suspects the answer.

“Definitely not,” Noctis grins as he takes the first spin. He puts on the cheap, plastic purple earring as instructed and hands the spinner to Prompto who gets to wear a blue necklace. Luna lands on the crown right away, and neither of them are able to steal it from her for a long time.

Prompto is the first to get all the rest of his jewelry. He’s adorned in blue—a necklace, a bracelet, two clip-on earrings, and a large plastic ring. He looks exceptionally cute. A memory flashes into Noctis’s head of one time they’d gotten drunk on a Friday and made a naughty bet over who would win the game. Noctis had, of course, but he’d given Prompto the crown anyway, placing it on his golden hair, and Prompto had been good to his word, getting on his knees, crawling towards Noctis and unzipping his fly, taking Noctis in his mouth, somehow looking so incredibly elegant in all his makeshift jewels as he coaxed Noctis towards ecstasy. Noctis remembers the flash of blue eyes looking up at him and thinking he’d never felt so powerful.

“Oh my _gods,”_ Prompto giggles, “I landed on the crown! I am _taking a crown_ from a _literal_ princess.I don’t think I can be reinstated to the Crownsguard after this, guys,” he says as Luna gently removes the circlet of gray, bejeweled plastic from her head using _both_ hands as if it’s actually valuable. It’s probably a reflex from growing up royalty and being taught to treat even meaningless customs with care, or maybe she’s just drunk and thinks it’s funny...And yet Luna’s not smiling as she ceremoniously places the crown on Prompto’s head, adjusting it to just the right angle. There’s a moment where Prompto and Luna’s eyes meet, a flash of something strong enough to make them both look away.

“Would anyone care for a shot?” Luna asks quickly, getting up before they’ve even had a chance to answer. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” Prompto mumbles. They both watch as Luna departs for the bathroom instead of the drink cart. Prompto’s cheeks are flushed as he glances across the table at Noctis. 

“Think she’s okay?” Prompto asks.

Noctis has no idea, his mind still reeling from the moment they shared. ”Uh, yeah, probably.” 

“That was fun, huh?” Prompto asks. “Nice to, erm, get back to an old tradition...”

“Yeah,” Noctis says, downing the rest of his drink. “Yeah, it’s...really nice to see you.”

“You too, Noct.”

“Probably good to see Luna too, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Great to see her too. You guys are really cute together.”

It’s a strange observation for him to make. At first Noctis assumes Prompto doesn’t know what he’s talking about, that he only sees what he _wants_ to see, but it strikes him that he and Luna _are_ cute together. Their friendship has blossomed so much since Prompto left their lives. They’ve formed their own brand of intimacy, one that might be difficult for others to understand, but one that’s surprisingly fulfilling nonetheless. Noctis feels a gentle pride, warm in his chest, knowing that the effort he’s put into his relationship is noticeable, even from the outside.

“Thanks,” Noctis says.

The pride quickly turns dark when he notices Prompto’s deep frown. The fear creeps under his skin that both he and Prompto are wrong about Luna, that Noctis has no reason to be proud when he still sometimes wakes to Luna crying and pretends he doesn’t hear. He tries to resist his next statement, but the words have already been loosened by the alcohol, ripened on his tongue, just waiting to pass to a sympathetic ear. Prompto’s the only person in the world he could tell this to. “I don’t make her happy though.”

“Nah, dude. I’m sure you do. It’s obvious she loves you.”

 _“She_ loves _me,_ but...” There’s really no way to finish the sentence without saying something he doesn’t mean.

”You love her too. I can tell.”

“Not in the way she wants me to.”

He can see the caution playing in Prompto’s eyes, can sense his fear. Prompto would probably run from this conversation if he could, but he can’t, and Noctis yearns to have his sins laid out too badly to worry about who it hurts.

“I’m gay,” Noctis confesses the obvious, and the relief it brings feels so novel and fresh, like the release of a meditative breath. “I’ve tried _not_ to be gay, I don’t _want_ to be gay, but I am. I’m not like you, Prom. I can’t look at her the way you do. It’s like I _know_ she’s beautiful, but it’s not like it was with you. Not at all.”

“Hey, buddy,” Prompto whispers, his tone gentle, never judgemental or harsh, just the balm Noctis has been craving, _needing,_ to ease his pain. “Maybe...maybe that’s okay. Marriage isn’t just about sex. If you love each other, that’s enough. I mean, it’s more than a lot of married people have. I know it’s not perfect, but...but what relationship _is?_ I mean... _right?”_

The hurt in his voice is subtle enough that Noctis might not have even recognized it back when they first started dating. Back when Noctis genuinely believed Prompto had no bad days or dark thoughts. He’d convinced himself of Prompto’s own lie, that, in spite of everything wrong in his life, he was somehow incredibly, perfectly _happy._

Now, magnified by the intuition that comes from the alcohol, a distant thought takes form. There _is_ a path forward, maybe one that could work, but he needs Prompto to say it, because it would be too masochistic to say it himself, to crush his own clinging hopes to dust.

“You think Luna’s pretty?” Noctis asks.

“Um, yeah, definitely, of course. She’s…”

“And you like her personality?”

“Course. She’s really nice...”

Noctis fingernails dig into his palm under the table. He ignores the quickening of his pulse just long enough to ask the most dangerous question. “You have a crush on her.”

It’s _meant_ to be a question, but it comes out as a blank statement of fact, not even an accusation, just a reality Noctis has known for some time and feels relieved to have said—the sickening weight in his stomach is assuaged, the fingernails in his palms go lax as he waits for Prompto to say something.

Prompto stays silent. He glances up at Noctis, then down at the table again.

When the door to the bathroom opens, Prompto startles and stands up. Noctis wonders if he’s going to leave, but he sits in one of the armchairs and stares at the fireplace instead.

Luna senses that something’s gone amiss. Her eyes search the two of them, knowing the silence that’s fallen is too profound for comfort. She walks silently to the drink cart. The clink of the three glasses hitting the wooden surface echoes off the stone walls—one, two, three. The relief Noctis felt is now rising tension. He can’t look Prompto in the eye, so he fixates on the way his hand grasps the arm of his chair as Luna’s every movement is magnified—an opening bottle, liquid pouring into glass.

Noctis keeps expecting Luna to fix it, but she maintains her silence as she walks towards Prompto and hands him his drink, then Noctis, before seating herself in the other armchair, the one Noctis usually occupies. She downs her shot wordlessly before she takes a deep breath, her presence instantly commanding both of their attention.

“I’ve decided,” she begins, then pauses, sitting her shotglass on the coffee table with another resounding clink. “I’ve decided that if the two of you want to be together, I will no longer stand in your way. You have my permission and my blessing. All I ask,” another deep breath, “is that it not impact your duties as my husband.”

She nods slowly to herself, says a _thank you_ with the finality of a judge’s gavel, and retreats, without so much as a glance at either of them, to the balcony. 

It should be ideal, a cause for celebration. This is what Noctis has wanted since the day his engagement was announced, handed to him without reservation. Maybe those same words would’ve felt like a victory back then, but they don’t now. It makes Noctis’s stomach twist, to think this was once his highest aspiration, a reason to circumvent Luna to get at Prompto. But now, the silence that falls without her feels unnatural and bereft. 

“Sorry, Prom. I...”

“Hey, um, it’s okay...I’m just gonna go apologize, and then I’ll, er, yeah. Then I’ll head out.”

Prompto stands, not realizing the ill-fitting crown is slipping off his head. He catches it in his palm and hurriedly removes the rest of his jewelry before his movements cease.

“Sorry, Noct,” he says softly. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I didn’t mean...I didn’t want to hurt you, or Luna. It’s not like...it’s not like I _wanted_ to like her. I was never gonna _do_ anything about it.”

“I know you weren’t.”

“And it’s not like I don’t still love you, ‘cause I do. I haven’t,” he sobs, “I haven’t really moved on, ya know? ‘Cause I don’t have any friends, and I don’t have a good job or a nice apartment. I don’t really have anything. I’m just me, and you’re a prince, and Luna’s a princess, and...it was just never gonna work out like we wanted it to...I know you think I wanna be on the Crownsguard again, but I don’t. I really don’t. It’s too painful. So don’t ask Iggy about it, okay? Please.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just gonna go talk to her, and then I’ll go.”

“Um, Prom?”

“Yeah?”

“I still love you too.” 

Prompto bites his lip but doesn’t say anything before he retreats to the balcony. Noctis downs his shot and stares at the fire, trying to make out what they’re saying before deciding he doesn’t really want to know. He silently exits the bedroom and shuts the door behind him, waving blankly at whoever’s standing guard. He decides he just needs time. He’ll walk it off, take a minute, try to figure out what the hell it is he actually wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be Luna’s point of view, because I wouldn’t dare deprive you of the conversation Luna and Prompto are about to have. 
> 
> Also, Pretty, Pretty Princess is a real game & it’s so fun & I highly recommend it 👍🏼


End file.
